Expect Little Sleep Tonight
by Citadel
Summary: Just how many times can a girl get kidnapped and forced to work in a brothel? And what happens when Mugen is Fuu's first customer? He'll help her escape right? Yeah right! MugenFuu Romance, PostSeries, Warning: Adult Content, COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Expect Little Sleep Tonight

Description: Just how many times can one girl get kidnapped and forced to work in a brothel? And what happens when Mugen is Fuu's first customer? He'll help her escape right? Right! (Mugen/Fuu Romance, Post-series, Five-part, Warning: Adult Content)

Disclaimer: I don't own/create/produce any part of Samurai Champloo.

Warnings: Listen up! Adult Situations, Adult Content, Adult Language, and Violence (but it's done to the bad guys, so it's all good!) And the most important warning, there will be a Lemon later on, that means S-E-X, people (it's strictly vanilla-missionary, but if you don't like trashy romance novels then this is not the fic for you.) I'll post another Lemon warning when I get to that chapter.

Author's Note: This fic is five chapters in its entirety, mostly all written (a first for me). Updates will come after I tweak and rewrite each bit.

Citadel's Soapbox: I've been reading a lot of Samurai Champloo fics lately (most very, very good); however it shocked me to discover how many authors are calling Mugen samurai. Mugen is sooo not samurai! Okay, I'm off my soapbox.

PS- Wondering about my extended absence and when the heck I'm going to update my other two fics? Check my profile, hurricanes suck!

Chapter One: Fuu's Peril

'Yeah know,' Fuu thought bitterly to herself, 'some girls go through their whole lives following some blissfully, dull routine and they never _ever _have to go through the terror and many annoyances of being kidnapped! Not even once!' Fuu huffed over the unfairness of it all.

How many times could one girl get kidnapped anyway?

"Hold still," Koto tugged on her hair, until Fuu's head was tilted backwards and her eyebrows were pulled up, "or you'll get poked in the eye, kid." Gritting her teeth, Fuu allowed the senior prostitute to blacken her eyelids with the charcoal and ink mixture. Briefly, she wondered if she should be resisting more, but something told her that Koto wouldn't hesitate to purposely blind her just to prove her point. Besides, one of the goons that had grabbed her was standing in the doorway, leering at her and waiting for any excuse to manhandle her again.

The question wasn't just, 'How many times could one girl get kidnapped?'; the real question was, 'How many times could a girl get kidnapped and forced to work in a brothel?' Fuu suspected her two times were two times more then the national average.

Of course the other kinds of kidnappings, the hostage ones (it didn't escape Fuu's notice that she had been kidnapped so many times that kidnappings were now organized by themes), hadn't happened since she had parted ways with the samurai and pirate, Jin and Mugen. She almost missed those kinds of kidnappings. Sure, she had been roughed up a bit by some sadomasochist psycho, but after Mugen or Jin showed up, the hard part was done. She'd just sit back and wait to be rescued.

Not like this! Here was the promise of some sweaty middle-aged man paying what he would to rent a horse, just to sweat all over some shivering, young girl who was down on her luck. Or in Fuu's case entrapped and kidnapped!

It had all started that morning, while Fuu was stopped at a sweet-vinegar rice stand, reading her horoscope. Her Horoscope had read, quite simply, "Expect little sleep tonight," which in Fuu's opinion, was not the kind of warning to heed a day like this.

It should've read, "Beware smuggled pearls," or better yet, "That guy next to you is a crooked cop, don't buy anything from him."

But no, she wasn't properly warned, so when the undercover guard approached her and offered her a set of pearl earrings straight from the country of Shin at bottom rate prices, she jumped at it. Only to be promptly arrested for buying smuggled goods from the continent. How was she to know about the Shogun's embargo against Shin? She was just a small town waitress for crying out loud!

Next thing she knew, a bunch of ugly thugs were dragging her down into the red light district and the Shogun's agent offered her a choice: Jail or Brothel?

As soon as Fuu heard that she knew what kind of game was being played! She'd heard stories about these kinds of creeps, entrapping and framing pretty, young girls and blackmailing them into a life of prostitution. The cop got to pocket the money from the 'sell' and the yakuza got a fresh face and body for the flesh trade.

'I'm too cute for my own good,' Fuu thought bitterly to herself.

Of course, she chose the cathouse; after all, jails have bars, brothels have paper windows. Escape from a whorehouse would be much easier then a guard station. And if worse comes to worse, she could always hit some poor bastard with a vase again…

"Ouch!" gritting her teeth, Fuu tried to stay quiet as Koto pinned her hair so tight that it hurt to blink her painted eyes. Extravagant hairpieces and pins were poking out of her head with dangling metal ornaments and bright, cloth flowers. She might've appreciated them more if it hadn't been for the circumstances.

After haggling over the price of Fuu, the crooked cop had left the brothel 75 ryo richer (which vaguely insulted Fuu, the last time she was kidnapped and forced to work in a brothel she had been worth 100 ryo!) and Fuu was left in the charge of Koto, a thirty-some-year old prostitute with a no nonsense attitude about her work. She'd already boxed Fuu's ears a few times for fidgeting or whining or staring a little too intently at the back window.

Koto was now staring at Fuu, the lead-based, white face-paint in one hand; the fingers of her other were tapping her tobacco-stained teeth, as was her habit while she was thinking. Really, the brown stain of her teeth was the only unattractive thing about Koto. Though older then her peers and lacking their glow of youth, Koto more then made up for it in sex appeal. She was curvy and sensual, bawdy without being vulgar, and Fuu was willing to bet that what Koto knew enough about the bedroom to fill a library!

"Mmm," finally setting down the face-paint, Koto said, "Let's lay off the white. Keep your face natural and pink. They're selling you as a virgin anyway, you might as well look like one." Instead, the senior whore picked up the face powder and set about making Fuu a more 'natural', pale face. "Are you really a virgin, kid? If not, you better tell me, 'cause the Boss is gonna take bids for your 'first night'. He don't care if you get slapped around when some guy realizes he got ripped off. The Boss gets the money and you get a black eye."

Fighting back the urge to sneeze as a thin cloud of face powder settled around her head, Fuu blushed, shaking her head, "No, I've never…um, done _it_."

"_It_?" a penciled black eyebrow arched and Koto smirked, "You really are a virgin, kid."

"My name is Fuu," she muttered quietly.

"Not any more," said Koto, but not unkindly, "Best if you forgot 'Fuu' even existed. Now you get a new name for a new life," and the prostitute tried to muster some enthusiasm in her voice, "Most girls don't get to choose their new names, but the boss put me in charge of naming you. So, I'll give you some choices and you choose the one you like best, all right? Won't that be fun?"

Fuu half-heartedly shrugged her shoulders.

"Let's see, Hoshiko's a good one, very glamorous. Yoshe, that one's a little too common though. Umeko, Miki, Oki- no wait, we already have an Oki. Kura? Kura's very pretty. What do you think?"

Honestly, Fuu didn't give a rat's ass about a new name she didn't plan on keeping anyway. A dozen little escape scenarios were busy running through her mind and she wasn't really paying attention to Koto, until she heard the extended pause. What was the last name she'd heard? "Kura. Kura's fine, I like Kura."

"Kura it is then," Koto theatrically dusted off her hand and gently took Fuu by the chin, twisting her this way and that, "Very nice, very young. Now time to get dressed. It's twilight already and the midnight hours are our happy hours." Rising up to her feet, the senior prostitute unwrapped a paper-clad package and whipped out a bright purple kimono with a pale yellow nagajuban. Both the front obi and han-eri were bright red and Fuu was ashamed to admit to herself that she really liked these clothes. So what if they practically screamed, 'Lady of Negotiable Affections'? It was pretty and made of very soft cotton (though Fuu idly wondered why she couldn't manage to be kidnapped by a brothel that could afford silk).

Fuu was helped to her feet by Koto, "Take off that old kimono and I'll take it to the Boss. He keeps all our private things." This caught Fuu's attention and she glanced up at Koto, a little perturbed. "Yeah, I know it's a bitch, kid," the prostitute shrugged in apology, "but this is our lot in life. Normally, the Madam would handle all this, but she was skimming off the top and the Boss found out. The yakuza jacked the ex-Madam up something awful." Sighing, Koto picked some lint off of the purple kimono in her hands, "Pity, she wasn't half bad for an old crone. So I'm in charge until the Boss gets a new wrinkled bat to order us around and answer to him. The Boss knows everything we do, he knows who we talk to, he knows how much we get tipped, and where we go. If he keeps your private clothes, you'll have to go through him to get out on the streets. This way, he can keep tabs on you." Impatiently, Koto snapped her fingers at the goon in the doorway, waving him out with gritted teeth. The thug took one more suspicious leer at Fuu, before stepping out and sliding the door behind him.

Turning around, Fuu started untying her obi and asked over her shoulder, "Who is this Boss anyway?"

"Boss Yutaka."

Fuu suddenly froze for two important reasons. First, the name had shocked her. She knew she was in trouble, but she had no idea that the shit was this deep! Boss Yutaka? He was only the most prominent, ruthless yakuza boss this side of Edo. Rumor had it, that he had spread from gambling houses to brothels lately, but Fuu, not being familiar with the politics of the local flesh trade, didn't know he owned any cathouses in this town. Yutaka was a notorious badass and not someone to screw with! Even if she did escape, she'd have to immediately start her life on the run and get her skinny butt the hell out of town!

The second reason Fuu had frozen up while undressing was that her trusty tanto was hidden on the inside of her kimono. She knew it was there, but hadn't used it while being kidnapped, because she had been so outnumbered and the punishment for pulling a weapon on one of the Shogun's agents was death! Yet, she still wanted to keep the tanto on her person, especially if Koto was going to leave her alone for a few minutes. This could be her big chance!

"Oh," Koto glanced over at Fuu's bare back, "take off your bindings too. They'll only get in the way later on."

Pretending to be more embarrassed then she already was, Fuu kept her back modestly to Koto and slowly unwrapped the cotton bindings that covered her breasts and torso, careful to keep her pink-lacquered tanto hidden from Koto's view. She slid her kimono the rest of the way off and handed her clothes to Koto, always facing away from the woman. Clutching the tanto to her chest, she tried to make it appear as if she was simply trying to cover her nudity by grasping at her breasts and facing away.

Koto didn't suspect a thing. In fact, she even tried to lighten the virgin's modesty by gently teasing, "Oi kid, did you know you blush red on both sets of cheeks?"

Gasping, Fuu laid one hand on her bare bottom, as if she could feel the blush there. Then she realized how silly she must look, in the middle of the room, hand on her naked ass, and mooning a seasoned hooker. She started laughing.  
Koto seemed pleased.

"I'm gonna go drop off these threads of yours. You get dressed and I'll come back for you," Koto slid the door open and having spotted the goon standing guard right outside, hissed at him, "You, keep your hands off that one, got it? She's supposed to be a virgin tonight, so stay-out-here!"

Grunting some committal snort, the thug went back to biting his yellow fingernails.

Now was Fuu's chance!

The minute that door slid closed, Fuu grabbed her new clothes and hastily threw them on, tying her obi in a haphazard butterfly-knot. True, the bright purple kimono would hamper her escape; it wasn't exactly subtle, but what choice did she have? She'd just have to count on her speed to get out of the city and onto the roads where she could manage a trade for a kimono a little less conspicuous.

She didn't have her geta either, so she'd have to run barefoot.

The only window in the room did not open. It consisted of panels made by thin, fine strips of bamboo that rice paper had been glued onto many times over the years. The wood was lean and easily breakable, but Fuu thought the snap of the panes cracking might attract the attention of the yakuza guard, so Fuu unsheathed her trusty tanto. Reminding herself of Jin, Fuu made graceful, quick swipes with her blade and quietly removed panel after panel. Thank the saints, she always kept her tanto nice and sharp!

'Damn, I'm good!' Fuu smirked to herself when she succeeded in making a hole just big enough for her to slip through.

The window was a little too high for her to crawl through on her own, but if she could just find something to step on…Snatching up a large, empty vase, Fuu carefully overturned it. She lifted up her kimono and gingerly stood on it. Good ole vases, was there nothing they couldn't do? Just as Fuu was easing her head and shoulders through the window, she recalled that a vase had actually been the cause of her first whorehouse experience.

And as if the vase she was standing on heard her unlucky thoughts, the traitorous thing started to tilt under Fuu's tiptoes.

"No!" Fuu whispered fiercely, while one of her feet suddenly slipped, knocking the damn vase over. Only halfway out the window, Fuu immediately fell onto the windowsill and knocked the wind out of her gut.

_CRASH! _So much for vases…

Wincing, Fuu knew there was no way in hell that the bastard standing guard wasn't going to hear that! Adrenaline spurred her into action, so that just as the thug was opening the door to see what she had broken, Fuu was using every ounce of her strength to lift her body up over the windowsill and literally throw herself outside.

Falling head over heels, Fuu landed on her back in the cold alleyway. The wind had been knocked out of her, yet again, but she didn't have time to catch her breath. She was up like a lighting bolt and tried to make a run for it, until she felt a sharp tug on her collar that chocked her protest right out of her throat and stopped her in her tracks. The yakuza goon had reached through the widow and had hold of her kimono!

"Get back here, you little bitch!" the man smiled a yellow-toothed grin, while he lifted Fuu by the collar.

"Let me," before she even realized what she was doing, Fuu swiped the blade of her tanto at the hand that threatened to reel her back inside, "GO!" Now if Fuu had been as strong as Mugen or Jin, she probably could've swiped the guy's arm clean off, but lucky for him, Fuu only achieved a deep cut that might've bled like a bitch, yet didn't leave any serious damage.

However, her slash did have the desired effect; the yakuza thug screamed and released her, clutching at his bloody arm. 'Feet, don't fail me now!' was the brief thought that lit a fire under Fuu's ass. She was up and running before her mind was even caught up. That goon looked _really _pissed! And if he caught her…well, if she didn't screw up her escape then she would never have to find out.

She burst out of the alley and onto the street, already filling up with its nightly multitude. Everyone was tinted pink from the bright red lanterns that shown everywhere and the smell of cheep vending food and warm sake mixed with the stench of human sweat. Out of the corner of her eye, Fuu spotted several yakuza guards standing at the entrance to the brothel. Immediately, she stopped running, hoping not to attract their attention. Her tanto lay securely inside her kimono, against her chest, a great comfort to her as she blended in with the crowds.

'Fuu, you are too damn good!' she allowed herself to gloat.

"Oi, the bitch is trying to escape!" Fuu froze, when she heard the voice of the thug she had cut booming over the street. Not being able to help herself, she whirled around to see him enraged and standing outside the cathouse door. As if he could sense her startled gaze on him, his face turned about and for one terrifying second, they made eye contact. "There she is!" he shouted at the other yakuza goons, pointing right at her, "Stop that little cunt!"

"…shit…" Fuu never really swore excessively, (at least not like Mugen, who would toss out a dozen 'mothafucka's in front of monks without blinking an eye), but when she did, she always had good reason to. Hitching up her kimono and trying to avoid someone stepping on her feet, Fuu spun about and tried to disappear in the throng of the red district patrons. She had a good head start on her pursuers and if she could just manage to give them the slip-

"Hey!" shrieking at the man that had just grabbed her by the arm, Fuu yanked her hand free only to be grabbed by some other helpful bystander, "Who do you think you are? Mind your own business!" She managed to wiggle free of that man too, but was in even more trouble. The whole crowd had risen against her! They were barring her way, tripping her, laughing at her, and trying to manhandle her into holding still. She should've known the type of sleazes that would hang out in the red light district would also stop a prostitute from escaping! After all, if all the whores could come and go as they pleased, who would there be left to fuck?

"Stop it! Let me go! Get out of my way!"

One of the yakuza guards had already made it to where the mob had trapped Fuu. "Not smart, girl," the young man made to grab Fuu by the back of the neck, but she gracefully spun about and kicked him with as much force as she could muster right in the jewels. Bingo!

Actual tears sprang to the guy's wide eyes and he wheezed, while slowly sliding to the ground. There, he stayed, not moving. Suddenly, the whole crowd abruptly backed away from Fuu; each clutching at their respective crotches.

Unthinking and in sheer desperation, Fuu unsheathed her tanto and yelled at those around her, "Now out of my way, or so help me-."

Pulling the weapon had been a big mistake, because she suddenly heard three more swords unsheathing behind her. She turned and watched as the yakuza neared her; the one she had cut was giving her a particularly manic grin. Her pursuers were now justified in using their blades against her. Oops…

Fuu had to make a decision. Fight and die or surrender and become a whore? Bitterly, she knew all too well what Jin and Mugen would've done. They would've fought (granted they would've fought and _lived_), but even if they knew they were going to die, they would've still fought. They were brave like that.

Not like Fuu…

_Shink_… the tanto blade fell harmlessly onto the cobblestones and Fuu slowly raised her hands into the air. "What?" she asked innocently with big, blinking eyes.

Her original guard stepped forward, blood trickling down his arm and his smile practically had fangs. Without a word, he raised his wooden scabbard and brought it up to strike Fuu about the head.

Startled, all Fuu had time for was to raise her hands reflexively and try to protect her face-

"Don't you dare!" suddenly, Koto was at the brothel entry and she didn't look at all pleased, "That face has got to sell tonight!"

"Shut your trap!" the goon threw back at her, but he did lower the scabbard and made no move to further assault Fuu, "I don't take orders from hookers, no matter how talented." He chuckled at the other thugs as if this was some clever observation.

"Don't be stupid," the senior prostitute marched into the street, "You may not take orders from me, but you take orders from the Boss and Boss Yutaka put _me_ in charge of the girls! How am I gonna sell a busted face, uh?"

"Bruised whores sell all the time," he spat back.

"Not for 'first night' bidding, they don't," Koto eyed the tanto lying on the ground. Tsk-ing, she retrieved it from the cobblestones and marched over to Fuu. "Give me the sheath, kid," she held out her impatient hand. Wordlessly, Fuu took the pink-lacquered sheath and gave it straight to Koto. Fuu knew when it was time to argue and when it was time to kiss a little ass. Glaring down at her, Koto raised her pale arm and soundly boxed Fuu's ears so hard that they rang like Shinto bells. Fuu gasped in shock, but managed not to cry.

"She was escaping," one of the guards said, "She must be taught a lesson."

"Later."

"Look what she did to my arm," the yakuza goon showed Koto where Fuu had cut him, "How's she gonna make that up to me? And what about what she did to poor Shoishi?" Apparently, Shoishi was the unlucky bastard that Fuu had kicked, because he was gingerly standing back up and nodding his head in agreement.

"Later," roughly, the senior whore grabbed Fuu's collar and tugged her back to the brothel, "There's a lot of money to be had for 'first night's and I won't have that ruined by you four wannabes. Now back to your posts and try to keep a better eye on the rest of the girls." She deliberately added that last bit to show them who was in charge for once. It wasn't everyday Koto got to exercise any authority over yakuza enforcers and she intended to live this one up.

Once inside the brothel, Koto spun around and Fuu flinched, thinking Koto meant to box her ears again. Instead, Koto was looking down at her, sadly, almost remorsefully. "You stupid kid," she sighed, defeated, "Don't you get it? There are worse things in life then prostitution and there are even worse things then death. By pissing off those bastards, you just made your life here a living hell. You need to lie low for a little while, keep your mouth shut, and do as you're told, got it? Maybe they'll forget."

But Koto didn't sound convinced even as she said it.

Fuu gulped and missed Jin and Mugen more then ever.

0000000

"Stop making faces, kid," Koto smacked Fuu's brow with her long pipe, "It's not like that works anyway. You'll only get the true freaks and perverts by acting like a child."

"Ouch!" rubbing the spot on her head where Koto had bopped her, Fuu begrudgingly gave up on trying to frighten customers away by looking hideous; after all, it's not like it helped the _other_ time she was kidnapped and forced to work in a brothel.

"And don't start crying," Koto warned her, smoothing over a stray hair in Fuu's face, which was an oddly maternal gesture that had Fuu a little confused, "Crying attracts the _real_ bad guys."

All the girls were out in the showcases tonight. Each painted and pinned like little dolls, each forcing flirtatious smiles or coy frowns, and each secretly wishing they were somewhere else. The haze from the lanterns tinted everything yellow and a little dim, a deliberate intention that was meant to hide some of the girls' imperfections and mask the age of the older women. The smell from Koto's pipe was the musky and sweet scent of flavored tobacco.

Outside their wooden showcase, Fuu tried to ignore the bellowing voice of the brothel-callers. It twisted her gut when she heard them describe her as 'pure as fresh, fallen snow,' and 'unspoiled soil, ready for sowing' or 'the tasty melon to be split'. Yet far worse then the shouts proclaiming her ripe virginity, were the potential customers that came to their wooden bars and pointed at her, talking as if she couldn't hear:

"That's the new girl, eh?"

"Doesn't look like a maiden to me."

"If she ain't really a virgin, do I get my money back?"

"She know any tricks?"

"C'mon, let's see the goods upfront!"

"Not a lot of tit, kinda scrawny."

"What can I get for forty mon?"

Many of these sleazebags had witnessed Fuu's earlier escape attempt and apparently, she made a good sideshow as the 'ball-busting new girl'.

"Gentleman, gentleman," the brothel-auctioneer appeared in the entryway, "let's not haggle in the streets like butchers and bakers. Come, come inside and we shall begin a gentleman's bidding for the lovely, little flower, Kura!" Still talking lewdly about their speculations on Fuu's body, the small crowd started to file into the brothel, leaving the other prostitutes to finally start gathering customers of their own while trapped in their little, wooden cage.

"You'll get used to it, kid."

"I don't' think I could ever get used to this. Trapped like an animal behind bars, treated like a horse to ride, and imprisoned. How can anyone possibly get used to this?" Fuu pouted, glaring at the other girls who seemed so eager to attract customers.

"Easy," Koto took a long drag off her pipe, letting the sweetened smoke waft out through her nostrils, "forget everything that made you what you are. Become empty, become hollow and it won't matter anymore. Take pleasure only in money and material gain, because that's all a life like this can attain for you. Forget that Fuu ever existed. Now there's only Kura and since Kura's not a real person, no one can hurt her." Koto said all this as if it was nothing, but the words were more powerful then any tears.

_Forget Fuu ever existed?_

Why, when Fuu even attempted such a feat, did images of Jin and Mugen appear like dark wraiths in a silver mist? Because, if Fuu never existed then she never would've have met her polar bodyguards. They wouldn't have taken their fateful journey and it was that unforgettable trip that largely defined who Fuu had become. She learned so much about herself and the world. There had been danger, yes, but also fun and feasting (rarely) and friends…oh, her dear, dear friends. She could never forget them, and because she couldn't forget them, she could never forget herself either. Not as long as Mugen and Jin shared her memories. Sometimes, she thought that those two were more apart of her then she was! Jin, her wisdom and maturity; Mugen, her pride and heart-

Whoa, no way! Fuu stopped herself before going down a familiar and painful road full of regret. She was not doing this again. Not over the likes of _him_…

A change of subject was called for in Fuu's mind.

"I," Fuu hesitated in telling Koto, because the thought still felt strange, even to her, "I was the daughter of a samurai…once."

"What do you mean 'once'?"

"He died."

"Oh," Koto frowned as a potential client ignored her for a younger whore, "probably the best thing for it. The way of the samurai is going to shit. Hired hit men, superficial honor, slicing their bellies open for fools. Absolute clichés. What sort of hyper-anal morons still live like that, oi?"

At that moment, Koto sounded so much like Mugen that if the prostitute had started picking her nose and flicking boogers, Fuu would've not at all been surprised. Instead, Koto kept smoking her pipe.

Mugen…

_Thick, wild hair was wet and sticking to his copper face. The blood from the scratches on his cheek trickled down his neck and stained his white shirt as water dripped from his long limbs. His punctured hand was raining droplets of blood that spattered the ruined floor of the church. He had never looked so tired to her; tired, bloody, and wet, but never defeated. Behind him, the ethereal blue of the water and sky shadowed his silhouette. His eyes traveled over her all too briefly, assessing her bruised face and bloody mouth and though there was no other clue in his appearance to show his feelings, his eyes flashed with rage. He had come for her._

This memory (however morbid) was wildly beautiful, like summer lightening.

Fuu suddenly had to blink back her tears, hoping Koto wouldn't notice. Whenever she remembered Mugen, just Mugen, this same image was always the one that taunted her. It wasn't because of Mugen's physical state (saints knew that she'd seen him mangled nearly to death numerous times before and after that). It was because of what she was feeling while tied to that cross, the hostage of three demented brothers. She had doubted him! She just _knew_ he wasn't going to come rescue her. Of course, he would abandon her, leave her! After all, hadn't she released him of his obligations when she set out for the island alone? Even when Jin had mysteriously appeared behind the samurai sent to murder her, she hadn't been surprised. Yes, the state of Jin, his hair wet and blowing in the wind and his side bleeding profusely, had startled her, but the fact that Jin was there to save her was something she almost _expected_.

Not like Mugen.

He was the pirate, the rouge, the no-good-cruel-son-of-a-bitch that taunted and teased her ruthlessly. The blind fool that had deliberately not seen what was before him. That hadn't noticed her jealously when he visited cathouses or how much she fretted over him when he was hurt or how sometimes she'd pick a fight just so he would talk (yell) and pay her a little attention. He wasn't supposed to have rescued her!

But he did! And she was wrong, so very wrong about everything! What a fickle person she was not to have known him, not to trust him…

_Have some faith in me, would ya? _he had said to her.

She shuddered in shame, remembering his words to her. She should've known better. How many times had he rescued her before (not counting the time he was too stoned off his ass)? Countless times! One time was even from a whorehouse just like this one (though she actually wasn't there at the time, Suzu had filled her in on how he had come bursting into the wooden cage, sword bloody and demanding her). And how does she repay him? By doubting him. Mugen deserved better and the sorry fact that Mugen deserved so very little to begin with made her denial of him even worse in her eyes.

In the end, Fuu was the blind one.

'Ahh!' she thought, shaking her head to rid herself of these thoughts. This was exactly why she didn't want to think about Mugen! He was driving her crazy! And he wasn't even around…

Misunderstanding the reason for Fuu's obvious discomfort, Koto laid a comforting hand on Fuu's sleeve and said, "Don't worry, kid. It ain't so bad. Just lay back and think of Edo."

0000000

'Lady of Negotiable Affections'- Terry Pratchett quote.

This chapter was all Fuu, next chapter's all Mugen!

Please Review, Reviews are Fanfic-Crack!


	2. Chapter 2

Three important notes:

1. For those of you familiar with the North American version of Samurai Champloo, the ukiyo-e print of Fuu, _Backwards Beauty_ was censored. In the original version, the profile of Fuu's left breast is seen.

2. Mugen's monosyllabic phrases are one of my favorite things about him (huh, feh, hn, and oi). Both of his VA's are very expressive with these phrases. However, seeing these expressions written in black and white doesn't quite do Mugen justice, so I must ask that you give these little words their exaggerated dues when reading this fic.

3. In this fic, Mugen refers to the ethereal figures that appear whenever he almost dies as 'crow men'. I wish I could emphasize that Mugen is oddly respectful of these beings, always using honorific conjugation, but since I only write in English…

See previous chapter for disclaimer and warnings.

Chapter Two: Mugen's Paper

The crow men were back again last night.

Mugen kicked absently at a stone, listening to the clang and twang that his steel-lined geta made as he walked. The crow men were quickly becoming a pain in Mugen's skinny ass. It's not like they were _really _there, like the times when his number was almost up and he was about to bite the big one in a big way. They were just in his dreams, standing around, not talking, and being abso-fuckin'-lutely annoying! The worst part was he knew it was all in his head, which is what made it so frustrating. So what if he'd almost been blown apart by a psychotic dickhead in a wheelchair? He didn't' have to get all _traumatic_ about it! What kind of pussy was he, anyway?

He couldn't remember the last time he got a 'natural' night's sleep.

Unconsciously, Mugen's right hand was itching towards his pocket, but when he realized what he was doing, he reluctantly clenched his fist and kept it at his side. He was rather proud of himself for this. Self-restraint wasn't in his nature; hell, it wasn't even in his vocabulary. There would be a time for that later, as a last resort.

First though, he was going to try the usual: sake, gambling, women, and possibly picking a fight (okay, most assuredly picking a fight). Sometimes one of these four, or possibly a combination thereof, would keep the dreams at bay. And if they didn't work, if he was already too plastered, too broke, too tired to keep fucking, and out of people to slice, and the crow men were still there when he closed his eyes…there was always his secret weapon, the ultimate remedy! His pocket seemed to weigh heavy against his body as he thought about what was inside. Just one look, maybe a quick jack-off, and _bam_! Goodbye crow men, hello sleep! At least for one night…

Gritting his teeth, Mugen snorted. What was this shit? He actually needed a piece of paper to fall asleep? He hated feeling so weak, so dependent on something so stupid. Yet even now, he wanted nothing more then to take the picture out of his pocket and look at it.

But first he would have to deal with the assholes hiding in the trees.

Lazily, he was walking a well-worn road to a lively trading town where he heard business had been booming lately, especially yakuza business. And where there was yakuza there was usually work to be had and lots of money to be ripped off. Preferably, Mugen wanted as little as the former as possible and as much of the latter as he could get his mitts on. Yet apparently, he wasn't the only one thinking in this manner, because Mugen had counted at least five roadside bandits hidden in the trees around him. He was completely surrounded.

Other people might've called this 'trouble', but in Mugen's world this was textbook 'fun'.

"Oi!" he shouted out to what appeared to be no one, "If we're going to do this thing, you bitches are going to have to come down here and do it! Don't worry ladies, I'll be gentle." His devilish smile on the other hand, promised no such mercy. His eyes shone with homicidal delight.

The leaves rustled as one by one, the thieves fell to the ground. They carried an assortment of weapons, from scythes (which Mugen now had an understandable loathing for) to daggers and even one axe. "Glad to see you're doing this the easy way," what appeared to be the 'leader' of this little gang brandished his short sword, "Put your weapon and cash on the ground and no one gets hurt."

"Where's the fun in that?" Mugen laughed, making no move to do as he was told.

"The money now, you prick!" another robber screamed at him, waving his scythe to and fro.

"Ain't got no cash."

"Another deadbeat, huh?" smirking sarcastically, the leader inched closer to Mugen, sword at ready, "Forgive us if we don't take you at your word pal, but as you can imagine several other travelers have claimed to have no money. So we were forced to strip and search them, quite forcefully in fact, and do you know what we found?"

"I don't know. Freckles? Lice? Tattoo of your momma?"

To the leader's credit, he didn't rise to the bait Mugen was setting. Pity, Mugen's momma jokes had never failed before. "We actually found that they had cash hidden around their person," the leader said, "Must we search you in this manner?"

"Usually," Mugen started cleaning out one of his ears with his pinkie, an unconscious move he made to annoy the hell out of people, "someone buys me a drink first."

"Smartass," the moron with the axe butted in, "start by emptying your pockets!"

"Don't like to be told what to do."

Impatient with Mugen's quintessential antics, the guy wielding the scythe marched forward, weapon ready to attack and eyes watching Mugen's sword. Normally, this man would be a dead man the minute he was in striking distance, but Mugen still wasn't completely comfortable with scythes yet. Not to say he was afraid of them, (nothing could claim that kind of power over Mugen, not even the crow men), but he was wary of scythes in general. He preferred not to make a move against any scythe, until the handler demonstrated his skill. He'd wait for this guy to make the first move.

"Don't move, ya cocksucker," the bandit was a little nervous that Mugen seemed so bored with the whole situation. Quickly, he shot his hand out and began checking the closest pocket. As soon as his fingers closed around a piece of parchment, he noticed a weird look cross over the pirate's face. Misreading the wide-eyed expression, he snatched the paper and brought it out to taunt Mugen with it, "Well, what do we have here? A banknote perhaps? A deed? Seems like you're pretty upset, must be something valuable, huh?" The thief checked the parchment to see how much it was worth.

Mugen was absolutely livid and for the first time in his life, he was oh-so-incredibly-pissed that for a split second, he was completely paralyzed with rage. That _dead man_ was touching _it_! Getting his grimy prints all over Mugen's secret stash, all over the only surefire remedy Mugen had against the crow men and that dickless-wonder was wrinkling it! Unfortunately for the robber, Mugen's frenzy induced paralysis was short lived.

"What the fuck?" the bandit glared at the paper, "It's just a dirty picture and you can't even see all the goods-."

Pity those were his last words.

The other four thieves gawked as Mugen jerked his sword out of the scythe wielder's chest, blood gushing from the gaping hole where his heart should've been. As if his body was the last to be informed that he was in fact dead, the robber slowly fell to the ground, stiff and unblinking. His companions watched in sheer denial as he remained unmoving and then their collective gaze returned to Mugen, who was smiling and beckoning them forward with one long finger. The shock wore off quickly however, and the remaining bandits charged him, screaming and shouting intelligible curses.

Exactly thirty-two seconds later, they were all dead. Well, except for Mugen of course, whom had his sword stuck in the torso of a corpse and had to push off with his right foot to free his weapon.

Flicking the blood and gore off his blade, Mugen returned the sword to the sheath upon his back. It surprised him how lucky he was (most people would've considered being assaulted by five robbers a streak of bad fortune, but most people didn't think like Mugen); now he could steal from the thieves what they stole from others. That should save Mugen some time.

Yet before Mugen even checked the bodies, he returned to the corpse that had the scythe in one hand and Mugen's picture in the other. Gingerly, he unclasped the chilling fingers that had wrinkled his paper. "Motherfucker!" Mugen shouted down at the corpse and kicked him once for good measure, "You bled on it!" Mugen tenderly (a term never before used on Mugen) straightened out the parchment in his hands, smoothing out the edges and crinkles. He licked his thumb and tried to rub out the few splatters of blood that had stained the corner. Succeeding in turning the stain a light pink, Mugen conceded that it could've been a lot worse, considering the amount of blood that had sprayed out of that guy's chest.

There! His _Backwards Beauty_ was a little worn for wear, but no serious damage was done.

It might seem strange that Mugen was carrying around a copied print of Moronobu's latest ukiyo-e masterpiece, especially since the subject of said masterpiece was none other then the whiny, bossy bitch that he begrudgingly called a friend, but Mugen hadn't intended it to become anything _serious_. It had been more of a personal joke at the time.

He had spotted it by accident, while thumbing through the wares at an ukiyo-e store, trying his damnedest not to get a hard-on with all those other dudes around. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Fuu, staring out from a sunflower colored print. She looked so coy, so demure…so sexy! Which was funny as hell to him, because he knew she wasn't any of those things! Acting on impulse, which was the only way he knew how to act, Mugen purchased the picture and figured he could keep it around for a good laugh.

However that night, instead of laughing over it, he jacked off.

Well, he never said that just because it was funny, that it still wasn't hot!

Reflexively, Mugen started tracing the lines of the print with his calloused fingers. By now, he had memorized every curve, every color, and every shadow. His fingers ran along the bend of her neck, down the curve of her back, twirling around the circle of her generous rump. Of course, he spent extra time admiring her breast (though only its profile was visible), swiping his finger up and down along the outline. He ended at her mouth, those luscious, full lips that pouted so…promisingly. This was the ritual that kept the crow men at bay.

Of course, Mugen was all too aware that the artist had taken some liberty with Fuu's features. Not that he ever got to try Fuu's goods out for himself, but he knew the general shape of her. That butt was definitely _not_ an accurate portrayal. This part of her anatomy he had seen for himself, outside the hot springs while she was hunched over screaming at him for something or other. He had taken a closer look then she probably would've guessed; after all, it was _right_ there in front of his face. It hadn't been full and voluptuous like the one in the picture. Still, it hadn't been flat or boring either, just a pert, round, no-nonsense ass. The lips were exaggerated too. Fuu's lips weren't sensual buds of promise. They were wretched slabs of flesh that were either spewing forth nagging whines or inhaling ungodly amounts of food…but sometimes (not as often as Mugen would've preferred) when Fuu was thinking or sleeping or had finally ran out of things to yap about, her lips would set into that small smile, slightly pursed and velvety pink. Those lips were _somewhat_ likeable. Then there were her tits! Talk about false hope, there was no way Fuu had hooters like that! Sure, she had said that clothes made her leaner, but there isn't enough fabric in Nagasaki to cover those melons up. The brat was flat chested as a board…that was a pity, because she _did_ have a nice ass.

Still, Moronobu had seen Fuu's tits for himself and Mugen had not. Maybe he knew something Mugen didn't?

Snorting, Mugen carefully folded up his ukiyo-e print and stuffed it back into his pocket.

'I don't need you,' Mugen glared down at his pocket, 'If I wanted to keep those damn crow dudes away, I'd do it without your help.' That still didn't change the fact that on night's when he stared at this picture, hypnotized by it, touching it, and thinking of all the ways to which it compared to the flesh and blood model, that the crow men didn't bother him and his dreams remained empty, save for the occasional sunflower.

Now no one could accuse Mugen of being a deep thinker, Mugen would be the first to admit this. Philosophy and retrospection weren't typical requirements for survival on Ryu-kuu, so Mugen had little practice at contemplation. Still, he had pondered why it was that his _Backwards Beauty_ was able to chase away the crow men. At first, he thought it was the sexual tension or the very act of getting off, but a couple experiments at whorehouses had proved that theory wrong. Sure, _sometimes_ a little fuck would work if sake or gambling or fighting was involved, but they didn't work _all _the time. Not like the picture did, but why not?

Was it Fuu then? This question always made Mugen grind his teeth. 'Of course not,' he'd reassured himself, 'That stuck-up, little cow couldn't cook my dinner, much less soothe my dreams.' But then, why would a picture of her keep the crow men away?

To this Mugen had developed an appropriate answer that he was rather proud of, considering his mental aptitude. The answer was easy; he had never fucked Fuu. Plain and simple! There had never been a woman that Mugen had known for so long and never screwed. That's what women in his life had always been for. Sure, there were other uses, most not as fun, but the added bonus to doing business and dealing with a woman on a daily basis was that sooner or later, he'd end up between their legs. Even Koza would fool around with him when her brother's back was turned long enough. The one exception was Sara. They had traveled with her for a little while and he never scored (though not for a lack of trying). Still, Mugen wasn't hung up on Sara like he was on Fuu, probably because Sara was dead and he had killed her. If there was one thing to be said about Mugen, he was practical. Dead chicks tend to make lousy lays.

Fuu, on the other hand, was very much alive. Very much alive and very much _not_ fucked by Mugen. It wasn't that he wanted to screw Fuu (there was nothing attractive about her, he had to tell himself over and over again), he wanted to screw what Fuu _represented_. How was that for some introspective analysis?

Obviously, it would only make sense that her ukiyo-e print would both arouse and calm Mugen. If he was feeling frustrated and bothered about Fuu, he was too distracted to worry about the crow men! It abstracted the nightmares by provoking a forbidden fantasy. His mind wasn't complex enough for both trauma and obsessive wet dreams. Simple as that.

There! What scholar could've done better?

Now all he needed to know was what was he going to do about it?

Mugen kicked another rock as he watched the trade town start to light its lanterns in the distance. Behind him, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow on the green rustling leaves. Soon the night animals would be out and hunting. The smell of blood was light on the breeze and Mugen bent over to rob the corpses.

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Seven ryo? Mugen was not happy. What sort of roadside bandits only had seven ryo in their stash? What a bunch of slackers! Not that Mugen had too much to complain about. Seven ryo was still a nice chunk of cash. Seven ryo would get him a gourmet meal, a lot of quality sake, and some pleasurable (hopefully, talented) company tonight.

But come on! Only seven ryo? It was definitely not the jackpot he'd been hoping for.

A breezy night had fallen and the temperate weather brought generous crowds to the red light district. He was rather impressed by the town's pleasure quarter and resolved to stay here for a little while, if he could find work (with the plethora of shady characters moving about, something told him that employment wouldn't be a problem). A hired sword could be real handy in a place like this. From the streets, he could hear women singing and men laughing from inside many teahouses and brothels. The smell of food from dozens of street vendors made Mugen's stomach growl and he pushed his way along, following his nose. He thought he smelled ocean fish, a welcome change to the fresh water guppies he'd been eating. Most people wouldn't be able to tell the difference just by smell, but Mugen knew.

He'd kill for some fried flounder and crab. Or better yet, maybe some shark fin-

_SMACK!_ For a brief moment, a wad of brown fur blinded Mugen.

"What the hell, man!" he shouted and just as quickly, the fur ball was gone. Frantically, Mugen glared about looking for the smartass that had thrown that fluffy rag at him. What he saw instead was a wide-eyed, flying squirrel perched on a second story windowsill, appearing far more intelligent then any squirrel had a right to. "Hn? You again?" glaring, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, "Can't be." What was that thing's name again? Mimi? MooMoo? All he could recall was his private name for it, 'Little Bastard', which Mugen thought suited the gliding rat much better then Momo…ah, that was it! Momo!

But was it really Momo? Mugen had to admit that all flying squirrels looked alike to him. Still, he didn't know of any other flying squirrels that would latch itself onto his face.

"So," Mugen spoke, not caring a lick for the people that passed him, staring at the crazy man talking to a rodent on a windowsill, "what do you want?"

For an adorable moment, Momo quirked her head as if listening and contemplating what Mugen said. Then the little fur ball leapt from her perch and soared over the heads of the red district patrons landing on the other side of the street, atop a particularly gaudy and large cathouse.

"Huh?" more curious then concerned, Mugen pushed his way to the other side of the street. A small crowd was gathering around the wooden showcases and Mugen wondered (and hoped) if maybe there was a free 'show'. Approaching the commotion, Mugen soon heard the booming voices of the brothel-callers:

"Who shall teach this girl the pleasures of the flesh, this fresh virgin pure as fallen snow?You sir? How about you? You look like a fine strapping young lad! Or how about the elderly gentleman there? Confucius himself proscribed a maiden's yin to be the ultimate cure for all ailments. Such a lovely Treasure House, our pretty Kura is! And young! We are not one of those sordid whorehouses that promise you youthful maidens and then get you so drunk that you can't tell the difference anyway!" The brothel-caller paused for laughter, "Our Kura, like fresh soil ready to be sowed, is an innocent, completely untouched by the hands of man. Who shall be the first? Come, come sirs, don't be so shy. He who wants fresh fruit must first split the melon…"

Totally disinterested now, Mugen was about to leave. Virgins had never particularly attracted him. They were usually very expensive and very useless in the bedroom. Why spend fifteen ryo on a nervous brat, when a tenth of that (granted, Mugen thought a tenth of fifteen was one) could purchase a seasoned whore that could make your eyes cross? Virgins weren't worth the hassle.

Then the mob standing about the wooden cages fortuitously thinned for just a few seconds and Mugen caught a quick glance of this 'Kura' girl.

"Hu-uh?" for a moment, Mugen didn't believe his own eyes. He rubbed at them comically and blinked a few times. Another man inadvertently stepped in Mugen's way and was roughly shoved aside without one word from the pirate. Son of a bitch!

It was Fuu!

Damn, who have figured she'd be this hard up for money? Well, she _had_ been a lousy waitress…and who picked the name Kura?

Besides the clothes, hair, and cosmetics, Fuu was remarkably unchanged. Her brown hair was glossy as ever, her brown eyes as soulful as the time she had cried for him, and her obnoxious lips were thinned into a frown of displeasure (that was one difference though, her mouth was shut!). Pouting, she absently rubbed a spot on her forehead. Some men were trying to taunt her, but she was ignoring them. And even though it seriously pissed him off to confess it, he had always thought she was pretty.

Unconsciously, his right hand entered his pocket and caressed his _Backwards Beauty_ with two fingers.

"Gentleman, gentleman," the auctioneer appeared in the entryway, "let's not haggle in the streets like butchers and bakers. Come, come inside and we shall begin a gentleman's bidding for the lovely, little flower, Kura!"

Telling himself he was just curious, Mugen followed the small crowd of potential customers into the brothel, careful to keep himself towards the back and hidden from Fuu, who never glanced up at them anyway. It's not like he was going to bid for her or anything; after all, he only had seven ryo, which wouldn't be enough for a 'first night'. Besides, what would he want with a flat chested, klutzy, little broad like Fuu anyway?

…well, he'd want to fuck her, for one thing as much as it irked him to admit it…Hadn't that been the point of his self-contemplations? She was driving him crazy because he couldn't have her? Mugen was just like the little boy who only wanted the toy on the top shelf and once he had it, was bored with it. Slowly, Mugen's mind started adding these things together. So that means…if actually laid Fuu…then he wouldn't want her anymore! Eureka!

Still didn't change the fact that he couldn't afford her right now.

However after tonight, her rates would be that of any other whore's. Which meant…well, Mugen couldn't wait to see the look on Fuu's face! She had always been so high and mighty compared to him. Such a snob, but this would bring her down a few pegs. Too good for Mugen? Not anymore.

"Pardon me sir," one of the brothel callers stopped him with a brief bow, "but all weapons must be checked in upon entry. Company policy." Wordlessly, Mugen handed over his sword, watching as other men were forced to do the same. He didn't mind as long as his trusty tanto lay secure in his sleeve.

Kicking off his steel-lined geta, Mugen strolled inside a spacious sitting room where the potential bidders were gathering around the brothel-auctioneer on his podium. Mugen decided to play a little game with himself, while he waited. Who in this diverse bunch of low-class samurais and seedy merchants and gambling lushes would win Fuu for the night? There were several middle-aged men, many graying heads, a few fatties, some filthy laborers, and one or two rather robust, young men. Mugen immediately disliked the young men, though he probably couldn't have said why.

The auctioneer kicked off the bidding at two ryo and of course it swiftly rose from three to four. There was a jump as a silk merchant bid for seven ryo and Mugen's eyebrow twitched, when it was official that he was out of the game already (not that he was going to bid, he reassured himself). "Nine ryo," some booming baritone, shouted from the middle of the crowd. There was a brief pause here as there always was when bidding was about to enter the double digits. Slowly, Mugen glanced at the guy who had made the last bid.

He was one of the ugliest bastards Mugen had ever met, and that was _really_ saying something. The guy was a total cow; he was so fat that his rolls had rolls of their own. Buddha had a better body then this asshole. And his skin! The flaky, flabby gray of his flesh made him look like a dead fish. His eyes were yellow and bloodshot. Not to mention the smell, which Mugen could sniff out over his own stench (and _that_ was _really_ saying something!).

Suddenly, Mugen had a gut-wrenching vision. That tub of lard, naked and sweating, on top of Fuu, who was cowering with eyes clenched shut and teeth gritted! For a terrifying moment, Mugen saw with perfect clarity the jiggling of his flabby ass as he thrust and thrust and thrust himself into her. Mugen heard his disgusting little grunts that sounded like human farts. With sickening horror, Mugen imagined tiny, little dandruff flakes falling on Fuu's face from his scabbed and balding head. Little tears leaked from Fuu's crinkled eyes. He could practically feel poor Fuu trapped and smothered under porky's monstrous gut and between his sagging breasts, so much bigger then her own.

_Yuck_! Literally, Mugen shook the disturbing image from his mind.

'Oh hell no,' he soundlessly made his way through the small crowd like a frog that swims through water without making ripples. Stealthily, he pulled his tanto from his sleeve. Good ole 'ace in the hole'! With a flick of his wrist, the blade had quickly cut through the thick cotton of tubby's kimono and pressed the knife into the cold, clammy flesh of his lower back. A single drop of blood ran down the blade.

Frozen in shock, the fat man gradually turned his double chins towards Mugen.

One of the advantages to being as simple and direct as Mugen was that people very rarely misinterpreted his meaning. It was said that one of Mugen's 'looks' was worth a thousand threats. Right now, lardo was getting one of his patented 'looks'. The 'look' was quite articulately saying, 'Take back that bid or I take out your kidney.'

"Um, wait!" the ugly guy shouted out, visibly sweating already, "So sorry, but uh, I've seem to have misplaced…my purse. How silly of me!" Here he laughed a little too hysterically, "Allow me to withdraw my bid."

The auctioneer, who couldn't see Mugen behind that guy's fat ass, was a little peeved that the momentum had been killed. He also didn't notice how after he nodded in acceptance, the big man let out a sigh of relief and immediately started backing out of the room. Persevering, the auctioneer continued, "I believe the previous bid was seven ryo made by this gentleman here." The brothel auctioneer pointed to the silk merchant.

"…" The silk merchant suddenly became quit pale as he started to shiver like a toy dog. He slowly turned his head to see a wild man standing right behind him with a tanto to his back and giving him quite an expressive 'look'. There was little room for argument in a situation like this. "Yeah, about that," he mumbled, "I've decided…that…I don't want her…anymore. I'm withdrawing my bid too."

"Now see here gentlemen!" the auctioneer was getting sick and tired of this, "You can't just bid money you don't have, that's not how it works-."

"Oi!" everyone's eyes turned to the center of the room, where a strange looking man had suddenly appeared, hand tucking something into his right sleeve, "Five ryo."

Sighing, the brothel auctioneer shrugged his shoulders. Best to get back on track as soon as possible. "Five ryo from the gentlemen with the-," he barely managed not to say tattoos, because he suddenly realized that those tattooed arms and ankles were the marks of a Ryu-kuu prisoner. Instead he said, "With the…bushy hair. Do I hear seven ryo? Seven ryo anyone?"

Mugen turned around, subjecting each man to one of his 'looks'. 'Bid and die,' he couldn't make himself any clearer then that.

It was a testament to the collective crowd's intelligence that one by one, each man decided that 'Kura' hadn't been that hot to begin with and if the lunatic wanted her so badly, he could have her! She probably wasn't even a real virgin anyway…

"Six? Six ryo? C'mon, gentlemen, the only 'first night' this girl will ever have and no one will pay six ryo!" gaping like a fish, the auctioneer started whining, "Do I hear six ryo, just six piddley, little ryo? What's the matter with you fellows?"

"Dude, can we get this over with?" Mugen smirked, "I'm horny."

The auctioneer accepted defeat, having no clue what was going on, "Five ryo going once. Five ryo going twice…sold." The disappointment dripped from his voice like water, "Congratulations sir, and thank you to all our participants." Hastily, the crowd made its way out the door, filing out and keeping their heads down.

No one looked back at the waving pirate, who was flipping them all off anyway, "Kiss my ass, losers!"

The brothel-auctioneer hastily existed the room.

One of the brothel-callers, a toothless old man, approached Mugen bowing respectfully, "Congratulations again sir. Please follow me."

"Sweet," clasping his hands behind his head, Mugen followed the old guy. He had a self-satisfied expression and hoisted his nose in the air. Hot shit, who would've thunk it? Not only did he win the bidding (and any kind of 'winning' was good in Mugen's book), but he also had two ryo left! Though it didn't reflect well on Fuu that he was able to steal her for only five ryo.

Fuu…

Whether he liked it or not, his pulse was quickening as it started to occur to him what exactly he was about to do and who he was going to do it with. Of course, getting lucky always got him excited, but this time he was anticipating so much more then just getting a piece of ass. Man, he couldn't wait to see the look on her face. She was going to freak out! Then she was going to put out and perform every depraved and debauched fantasy he had ever imagined for his _Backwards Beauty_. And there was nothing she could do about it, because she was the prostitute and he had bought her fair and square (always a relative term for Mugen)!

Besides, Fuu should be thanking him, really. He just saved her from a deflowering from a human walrus! She owed him big time for this. And Mugen wasn't exactly sore on the eyes either. Not that he particularly cared what he looked like, but he did know that he had plenty of sex appeal. Plus, he was a freaking animal in the sack. What woman wouldn't want that for her first time? Fuu should bow down and kiss his feet in gratitude!

Mugen was led to a long hallway where he saw the auctioneer arguing in whispered tones with a very busty hooker. "Five ryo! _Five_!" the sexy whore was hissing at the auctioneer, "You should've gotten three times that! What sort of cheap bums were you-?" Out of the corner of her painted eye, she spotted Mugen smirking at her. Immediately, she was all smiles and swaying hips, "Welcome sir, we are honored that you have decided to take our little Kura under your wing." She bowed deeply for him, giving him ample view of her cleavage.

"Yo."

"My name is Koto," she pursed her lips into a practiced, smiling pout, "I am serving as Madam tonight. Since you won the 'first night' auction, your room is rented for the entire night, as is Kura. She is waiting there for you. May I accept payment now?" Her hand was already out and waiting.

Tossing over the five ryo, Mugen added a sixth ryo as an afterthought, "Send up some food and booze, would ya?" and the cheapskate added, "And I want my change."

"Certainly," Koto bowed again, "after I have escorted you, I shall send a serving girl with some dinner. Do you require anything else, sir?"

"Maybe," pointedly raking his eyes up and down Koto's body, Mugen winked at her, "How much for you to join us? You could help me show the new girl the ropes."

A trilling laugh spilled from Koto's red lips and her face wrinkled jovially under her white make-up. "Sir," she pretended to scold him, "you ask too much of a maiden. Keep in mind Kura is shy and new to all this. Besides," and she said this next part under her breath as she turned around, smile immediately disappearing, "that one ryo in your pocket couldn't buy my tobacco for the night, much less any of my services."

Koto glided upstairs with Mugen following close behind.

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Writing Mugen is fun! (He's such a loveable pig)

Thanks to everyone who reviewed (or shall review, hint-hint), it's a great 'fix'!

Next Chapter: Their Reunion


	3. Chapter 3

See previous chapters for warnings and disclaimers.

(I'm reading the Samurai Champloo manga series, highly recommend it, very funny, great Mugen moments!)

Chapter Three: Their Reunion

_Turn, hit him with the picture frame, and jump to the neighbor's roof_

_Turn, hit him with the picture frame, and jump._

_Turn, hit, jump._

Fuu was compulsively going over her plan for escape over and over in her head. Her room for the night was sparse, except for the futon, a small mirror stand for 'prepping', and a few dim lanterns. There were no vases in this room, but many heavy framed 'pillow pictures' were lining the walls as decoration. She took one small enough to hide on her person, but thick enough to knock a guy silly. It was dangerous to wait for the john to get here first, yet if she didn't, he'd arrive in a few moments and discover her missing. By knocking the pervert out, she was buying some time before they realized she was gone. The jump to the neighboring teahouse worried her as well. She was on the fourth story of the brothel (a virtual skyscraper in Edo Period Japan) and a fall to the cobblestones below could be fatal. It was risky plan and not a very good one, but she didn't have a lot to work with.

Footsteps were slowly coming down the hallway and towards her room. Carefully, she kept her back to the door, hiding the frame in her lap. She tried her hardest to look demure and shy, not like she was about to beat the hell out of anybody.

The door slid open. She heard Koto wish someone a goodnight and then bare footsteps entered the room. The door slid shut.

_Turn, hit, jump._

There was an unbearable pause in which Fuu almost panicked and threw down her weapon, confessing to all, but then her 'customer' started walking towards her; slow deliberate footsteps that almost sounded too 'light' and therefore vaguely familiar. He stopped behind her, forcing her to hunch over to keep the frame hidden. Straining her hears over her own short, nervous breaths, she heard him kneel and felt a hand deliberately caress her back. Involuntary goose bumps broke out over her limbs as she felt his warm breath on her ear.

"Take THAT!" shouting, Fuu spun about and slung the wooden picture frame with all her petite might, right at the guy's bushy head-.

_Snatch!_ Her makeshift weapon was caught and swiped away from her with effortless ease.

"'Sup Fuu," said Mugen, eyeing the ukiyo-e print in his hand with interest.

A pang of bittersweet happiness ran through Fuu's rapidly beating heart, so fierce that it ached in the most wondrous way.

Indicating the carnal picture, Mugen said conversationally, "I've done this before," and added with pride, "twice."

Fuu felt a wave of disbelief and vertigo overwhelm her. He'd come for her. Just when she thought all was lost, he'd come for her, again!

"…Mugen…" clasping her hand to her mouth, Fuu took in the sight of him. For so long, she had been remembering him as he was that day in the ruined church…_the blood and water, the rage…_But here before her was bushy hair, tattooed arms and ankles, same raggedy clothes, and that obnoxious smirk, all accounted for. "Mugen!" she leapt forward and threw her arms around his neck, ignoring the tears that threatened to make her make-up run, "Oh Mugen!"

To his credit, Mugen sat on the floor and silently took the suffocating hug without complaint. Non-sexual contact was always a little awkward for him, plus one of her hairpins was poking him in the eye. He was also immediately disarmed by the smell of her, a scent he recognized from memory and had always tried to imagine while looking at his _Backwards Beauty_. It was a rare and subtle smell that only those accustomed to water knew, the scent on a breeze of fresh, river water just before it joined with the sea. Fuu felt warm and inviting against him and even Mugen was impressed to discover just how quickly he was getting a stiffy.

Clearing his throat, Mugen scrunched his eyebrows together and glared at the frame in his hand, "Yeah right. You acting all stoked to see me, but a second ago you were going to jack me upside the head with a dirty picture."

Fuu finally released him, wiping away unshed tears as she sat back. Her smile literally reached ear to ear. He was here, it was really him! "I didn't know it was you, you jerk!" Fuu said laughing, "I thought it was some _other_ pervert."

Mugen finally smiled at her and Fuu's blood immediately started to race, "Why would you club your customers? That's not very good business sense."

"To hell with business sense," and just like that, it was as if no time had passed between them; her hand were on her hips, her bottom lip was sticking out in a frown, and her eyebrows twitched. This was the Fuu he remembered, "Serves those bastards right for patronizing a yakuza brothel that actively entraps, blackmails, and kidnaps cute, young girls into a life of slavery!"

"You were kidnapped," Mugen asked flatly, "again?"

"Well…yeah," sheepish, Fuu started twirling a loose hair around her finger.

"Typical. What scam did you fall for this time?"

"Smuggled earrings."

Under his breath, Mugen grunted, "Dumb broad."

Fuu's fists clenched. Jeez, one minute reunited and he was already wearing on her last nerve. Yet, her frustration was short lived. How could she stay mad at him? Mugen had come for her! Just like the countless times before, he had appeared to rescue her. Fate really did work in mysterious ways. She blushed at the implication that perhaps something more 'cosmic' was going on between her and Mugen. "How on earth did you find me?" she clasped his hand, without realizing she did so.

"Your funny, little rat got stuck to my face," boyishly, Mugen pouted, his bottom lip rivaled that of Fuu's. This 'look' usually ticked off Fuu to no end, but now it was like the face of a god to her.

"But what were you doing before that?"

Mugen snorted rather grotesquely and shrugged, "Same old, same old. Getting work where I can. Hired sword, bodyguard, that kind of shit. You?"

"Waitress."

This time, Mugen laughed at her, "Still spilling tea on yakuza heirs, klutzo?"

"No-oo!" flattered that Mugen remembered their first meeting so well, Fuu playfully socked him in the arm and Mugen didn't miss the flirtatious undertone of the contact.

This was going a lot easier then he thought it would! Maybe Fuu really was relieved that her first time was with a friend and not some ugly, fat letch (not that Mugen wasn't a letch, but at least he wasn't fat or ugly). "So," leaning on his arm to get 'casually' closer to Fuu, Mugen absently picked at her purple kimono, "I came here, 'cause rumor has it some up-and-coming badasses need some hired muscle. Ya know, roll some cash, bust a few heads, have a good time…a really good time."

Mugen's notorious 'looks' weren't just for threatening people. In fact his 'looks' were quite versatile; he had sexy 'looks', seducing 'looks', 'looks' that practically growled, 'You know you want to fuck me.' And it was a combination of these three that Mugen was now subjecting Fuu to. He lowered his head, peering out under his brow with flashing, intense eyes that made direct contact with her own. His lips parted in a cocksure smile that was more like a hungry wolf baring its fangs, than anything remotely human. He had to think of a way to change this conversation from friendly to blatant sexual innuendo…

"So," Fuu said, "we should probably get to it."

"Say what?" okay, that was a little too easy, "You don't waste any time, do ya?"

"We'll need all the time we can get."

"You don't wanna," slightly perturbed, Mugen could barely believe he was asking this question with a straight face, "talk? Catch up a little?"

"We'll talk after," getting up Fuu, turned her back to Mugen, "Now come on."

There are only five deeds in this vast world that Mugen will perform when ordered to do so. They are as follows: 'Let's fight', 'Have a drink', 'Eat up', 'Place your bets', and 'Let's fuck' (not to be confused with 'Let's fight'). Not only will Mugen obey these 'commands' without question, he'll also embrace these tasks with vigor and gusto. So when Fuu wanted action, he was up and rolling.

"It might be too dangerous to climb down, there are yakuza guards around the courtyard. But I was thinking, maybe of jumping to the teahouse's roof, then climbing down the other side," sliding open the window, Fuu pointed to her intended target, "It's a little too far for me, yet you should be able to clear it easy. I'll send you with my obi and when you're on the other side, you can pull me up- AAHH! MUGEN! What the hell are you doing?"

Having turned around, Fuu watched dumbfounded as bare-chested Mugen struggled out of his white shirt, which had caught one of his blue-jade earrings. His red gi had already been unceremoniously thrown into the corner.

"Feh! What does it look like I'm doing?" His head freed, the white shirt soon joined his gi in the corner. "Unless," flashing a smile that would've been the envy of any devil, Mugen's thumb hooked into the waistline of his shorts and teasingly lowered them just enough to get a tantalizing hint of his dark treasure trail, "you wanna do the honors yourself?"

"Eeew! Gross, you pig!"

"Are you shitting me?" Mugen snapped, "It ain't nothing you haven't seen before!"

"So?" Fuu snapped back, "Doesn't mean I want to see it again!"

"Sorry Fuu," sarcasm practically spewed from Mugen, "but I didn't bring the sheet with the hole."

Exploding, Fuu threw her arms into the air, "What are you talking ABOUT?"

"You're the one who said we should get to it!"

"Yes, get to _escaping_!" for emphasis, she pointed to the teahouse's roof, "What did you think-?" Fuu abruptly gasped, mouth gaping in horrible realization, "Y-you…you thought I was going to _do_ you!"

"…wait a second."

"Of all the despicable things," she sputtered for breath, "How could you…Did you actually think…You have done some…Could you really have…ugh!" Finally she was able to form a cohesive sentence, "I-am-no-whore-you-perverted-creep!" She frantically looked around for something to throw at him, but had to settle for throttling the air in front of her in rage. The effect wasn't quite the same.

Muscles twitched along Mugen's arms while he clenched his fists tightly, "Are you telling me I just wasted five ryo?"

"I'm telling you tha-," a brief pause while Fuu's big eyes blinked twice, soaking the last bit in, "Five ryo? _Five_? My virginity was only worth five gold ryo?"

"Guess so," this time Mugen's smirk was not cute or endearing to Fuu.

"You tightwad!" adding quietly, Fuu sulked, "Koto said I could make a dozen ryo easy."

"Would you put out if I got you five more ryo?" though trying to stay casual like he was still teasing, Mugen didn't completely mask the edge of hope in his voice.

"Five and five is ten, Mugen," Fuu corrected him out of habit, "You'd need seven ryo to make a dozen."

Reaching out a long arm to try to touch her, Mugen whispered, "I can get you seven."

Years of waiting tables had honed Fuu's skills in avoiding unwanted gropes and pinches from disorderly customers, so Fuu had no trouble sidestepping Mugen's questing hand. She spat, perhaps a slight more vicious then she intended, "Not happening, pal."

"You think you're too good for me?" he was glaring at her, not bothering to mask his anger anymore.

Unconsciously, Fuu retreated back a step. "I didn't say that," she deliberately softened her voice a little.

"You don't have to say it, Fuu," Mugen advanced on her. Fuu never would've believed that Mugen could be anymore intimidating then he normally was, but with his shirt off and muscles taut and strained as if under some great pressure, she realized that Mugen could take intimidating to a whole other plane. "You show it in every frickin' way. You act it in every-freaking-thing you do. There wasn't a single day that went by that you weren't looking down your nose at me. Admit it. You bossed me around, you judged me. Sorry if a Ryu-kuu pirate isn't up to the standards of a samurai's daughter-."

"I wasn't raised that way," Fuu was backed up against the open window and still Mugen kept coming, "My father took off early, remember?"

"How could I forget the Sunflower Guy? Especially, since I had to save your scrawny ass every other damn day while we were looking for him," Mugen had no idea how much of a blow he just struck Fuu. This had been her nightmare, her raging guilt at having doubted Mugen while tied to that cross in the ruined church. Oblivious to Fuu's pain, Mugen continued, "And the thanks I got for coming to your rescue time after time? To be ignored, to be passed over because I wasn't your precious samurai-."

"Leave Jin out of this," Fuu cut in.

In a flash, Mugen's arms darted out to either side of the windowsill, trapping Fuu and making her jump in surprise. "Your wonderful Jin?" he hissed with malicious intrigue.

"He's your friend too!"

"But you wanted to be more then friends, didn't cha?" his head lowered down to whisper cruelly in her ear, "I saw you by the lake that last night, when you threw yourself at him. What happened? Lover boy spurn ya?"

"That's not what it was," Fuu said, refusing to shiver as he blew hotly along her neck, "I just hugged him, I was going to miss him- miss _both_ of you!"

"No hug for me?"

"What would you have done if I had hugged you?" now Fuu turned her head to growl at Mugen, her face inches from his, "You would've yelled or laughed at me and you know it! You were always calling me ugly, you were always telling me how much you hated me."

A flash of doubt crossed over Mugen's features and Fuu knew she had scored a point.

She kept going, driving her point home, "And you want to talk about 'throwing' myself at Jin? What about the time I 'threw' myself at you? We both know Sara would've killed you if it hadn't been for me." Fuu knew she was treading on thin ice here, because if Mugen and Fuu started tallying up how many times they had saved each other's life, Mugen was going to come out the obvious winner.

For a long while, Mugen was oddly quiet and if Fuu didn't know better she might have accused him of 'thinking'. He muttered, "…she just as easily could've killed you too. You couldn't be sure she wouldn't."

"Right," conceded Fuu, "it was a gamble and I took it. Lucky for both of us it paid off." Forcing a smile, she held Mugen's gaze, "You were always my friend, Mugen. I'm sorry if I didn't make that more evident to you. I never thought I was better then you. You were just dirtier, drunker, ruder, more dishonest, and more perverted." She was going to add 'stupider' to that list, but decided not to press her luck.

There was an awkward moment of silence, as Fuu stood stock-still between Mugen's braced arms. His head was still bowed, his face inches from hers. From the open window, the music of a single samisen was coming from the neighboring teahouse. A shooting star streaked across the night sky, but neither saw it. She was waiting for him to move; he was waiting to make a move.

"I don't _really_ think you're ugly, you _do _have a nice ass," Mugen cleared his throat and Fuu watched him suspiciously for any sign of insincerity, "and…I never hated you."

"Excuse me sir," a small voice called from the other side of the door, "I've brought your dinner and sake."

Food? Booze?

Immediately, Mugen forgot Fuu and spun about, "About damn time! I'm frickin' starving." For Fuu's part, she was just grateful that something had interrupted the intensity of the moment. The way Mugen was looking at her, the way he was talking to her…involuntarily, Fuu shivered. Mugen was jealous of Jin, because of her.

Quickly, the door slid open and an elderly maid set the dinner tray inside their room. Her eyes were carefully trained towards the floor; after all, a maid in a brothel learns to avoid witnessing the stranger things some of the guests do. She bowed and said, "Enjoy." Then the door slid shut and she disappeared like an inconspicuous tenant on rent day.

"Grub's up," snatching the tray, Mugen contentedly sat himself cross-legged on the edge of the futon. Chopsticks began moving at light speed, while Mugen shoveled Osaka noodles and double shrimp tempera into his gaping mouth. Eventually filling the cavern in his face, Mugen drank straight from the sake bottle to wash it all down. "Ahh," he gasped for a satisfied breath, before digging in again.

For a minute or two, all Fuu could do was study him from the window. He was just like a little boy (granted, a lethal, homicidal little boy with the ability to slaughter large numbers of armed men). He was so simple, so straightforward, so uncomplicated, and yet he was such a complete mystery. Just when she thought she had him all figured out, he did something…out of character.

"You can stop staring already," Mugen said around a full mouth, "you ain't getting any of my food, so forget it."

"Umph," Fuu lied, "I didn't want any anyway. They fed us that earlier. In fact, I think you're eating our leftovers." Actually, she had watered-down soup and some chuck rice for her dinner, but at least she got to eat her fill. "Besides," sounding completely uninterested, Fuu turned back to stare out at the night sky, "I don't have time for that. I'm escaping remember? I suppose it would be too much to ask if you'd help me?"

This gave Mugen pause and for a second Fuu thought he might actually relent and help. Swallowing his food, he quirked his head at her. A few bits of rice were stuck to the stubble on his chin. "Funny," Mugen's tongue swiped along his teeth, "I don't recall you saving my life."

"What?"

"Last time I took orders from you, it was because you saved my sorry neck. That was the deal. Don't have any reason to help you now, seeing how you haven't saved my life," raising his food up again, Mugen murmured into his bowl, "or any _other_ type of service for that matter."

"Fine," her hands set on her hips, Fuu pouted, "see if I care! I can escape just fine without you."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

"Watch me," Fuu thrust her head out the window and studied her options. The small wooden panes that acted like gutters between floors should be able to hold her weight. Only problem was how thin the room was for her footing. She'd have to stand on her tiptoes to keep from falling off. That'd be one tough tightrope trick. The only purchase for her hands was the wooden pane above her and she could barely reach that. Assuming she could stand on the wooden panes, then she'd have to scoot to the corner, where the distance to the teahouse was shortest. It would still be one daredevil leap though. The buildings were pretty much even in height and she's have to clear about four feet of air. Since the teahouse wasn't any lower, Fuu would have to grab onto the tiled roof and pull the rest of her body up.

But with Mugen not helping, what choice did she have?

"I can do it," she said with magnificent resolve.

"You're gonna break your bloody neck," Mugen saluted her with his chopsticks.

"You'll see," but Fuu didn't say this as confidently as she had hoped to. Unwrapping the decorative cord that hung around her obi, Fuu used the pretty gold braid to tie back her voluminous sleeves. The luxurious drag of her kimono was another matter; the best she could manage was to tie the excess fabric in a knot around her knees. Hoisting herself on the windowsill, Fuu looked up at Mugen who was watching her and drinking from his sake bottle. "After I escape, come and find me. We still have a lot of catching up to do," with a flirtatious wink (thought she would've insisted it was a 'friendly' flirtatious wink), she swung her legs over the sill, but paused to add over her shoulder, "And I'm sure if you act like you passed out or I hit you on the head or something, they'd refund your five ryo. Just don't sound the alarm until daybreak."

Mugen flashed Fuu a fanged smile, "What if I turn ya in now?"

She called his bluff, "Go ahead…_snitch_."

"Who you calling a snitch?" instantly, Mugen was absolutely indignant. Jeez, Mugen was so predictable! No bad boy could tolerate being called a snitch; it was the worst of all insults (and knowing Mugen's foul mouth, that was really saying something). Honor amongst thieves and all that. Now he would be sure to keep his trap shut and let Fuu go about escaping.

"See you around," Fuu said as a final farewell, before carefully hanging her waist and legs out the windowsill. Her toes stretched as they searched for the tiny wooden pane that would have to support her. The splintery wood felt secure under her foot and she gingerly lowered herself to test her weight on the flimsy structure. It seemed sturdy and sound. Giving a heartfelt sigh of relief, Fuu cautiously let one hand go of the windowsill and reached on her very tiptoes to grab the pane above her. She could barely reach it, but reach it she did and that's what counted. With her all her courage, Fuu took the last hand from the window and flung it at the higher pane. As she switched her balance from her arms to her toes, she felt the stomach-turning premonition of falling, but she held fast and the dizziness stopped.

Okay, so far so good. She wasn't dead yet. The fact that if she gave up now Mugen would laugh at her and say, "Told you so," made Fuu that much braver. Failure was not an option! With Mugen's condescending attitude to inspire her, Fuu began gradually inching along the wooden pane. She would cautiously scoot her right hand, then her right foot, followed by her left hand and left foot. The going was slow, but at least it was safe.

Somewhat interested, Mugen watched Fuu from the futon, leaning against the wall, bottle of sake in one hand, and the other hand idly itched his crotch. He stared until she disappeared from the window's sight, yet he could still hear her scuttle along on the other side of the wall. 'There goes my five ryo,' he bitterly glared at his sake. Even after he had admitted she wasn't ugly and that he didn't actually hate her, she had left. What a waste of sentimentality! Still, she had invited him to find her so they could 'catch up', but even Mugen couldn't hold any illusions to what Fuu meant when she said 'catch up'. She meant 'talking', but he'd wanted 'screwing'.

'Whatever,' Mugen's hand was in his pocket, retrieving his _Backwards Beauty_, 'Who needs that brat, when I got this? Sure, a piece of ass would've been sweet, but I can still get off without her-.' Something that had been bugging Mugen finally made itself evident, while he was setting down his sake bottle and started unfastening the top of his shorts.

"Oi," Mugen said aloud, glaring hatefully at his dinner tray, "that bitch didn't give me my change. This sucks! She jipped me like thirty mon!" Sure, the grub was tasty and the booze had a kick, but no fucking way it was worth an entire ryo. He was up and storming towards the door to give that whore with the huge knockers hell for trying to cheat him, when he heard it.

_Snap_!… Which was all he heard.

"Huh?" absently scratching his head, Mugen listened for any other sounds. Now he probably would've been worried or even panicked if he had heard a descending scream or the _thwack_ of a body hitting the ground, but the _snap_ of a pane breaking was the only noise, then silence. Until-

"…M-Mugen?" Fuu's usually braying voice sounded small and uncertain.

"What?" the annoyance in Mugen's voice easily covered up the relief.

"Um, I've decided not to escape tonight."

"Well _la-dee-da_," sarcasm was good at covering relief too.

"Could you maybe," she spoke in shaky, hasty words, "help me back inside? _Please_?"

Securing his ukiyo-e print back into his pocket, Mugen swayed up to the window as nonchalantly as he could manage. He stuck his head outside and peered about for Fuu. She was about six feet out, hanging onto the splintering remains of the wooden pane that should've been under her feet. The poor girl was ashen-faced and trembling. "It broke," she whispered.

"Like I couldn't have figured that one out," rolling his eyes, Mugen hoisted himself on the windowsill and because he just couldn't help it, added, "I told you so."

"Mugen," Fuu snipped, "My arms are getting tired."

"I'm coming, I'm coming, stupid bimbo," his feet were already on the wooden pane and his hands leapt to the top one a lot faster then Fuu had been. He scooted his way towards her as if he was only four inches from the ground, not four neck-breaking stories. To compensate for the flimsy wood under his feet, Mugen hung the majority of his weight from his arms (which Fuu hadn't the upper body strength to do). This way he was reasonably sure that it wouldn't crack.

The wood gave an ominous creak.

"Mugen!" Fuu cried as the wooden pane started to bend.

"Stop bitching," like a monkey, Mugen lifted his feet and used his arm-span to close the distance between himself and Fuu, not putting any weight on the splintering pane. Even in her fear and desperation, Fuu couldn't help being impressed with Mugen's physical ability. The wooden outcropping he was swinging from couldn't have allowed more then a few inches of purchase. Mugen was basically keeping his whole body up and moving with the strength of his fingers alone. She watched him with fierce adoration until he was directly above her. Taking a deep breath, Mugen released one hand and reached out to her. "Give me your hand, Fuu," he grumbled under his physical exertion. When Fuu hesitated, reluctant to test her strength on only one tired arm, Mugen smirked down at her, "Have some faith in me, will ya?"

Of all the things for him to say…

From somewhere impassioned and repressed in her, Fuu rallied the strength to pull herself up just a few vital inches while outstretching her hand. It didn't look like she could possibly reach, it appeared as if a fraction of an inch kept them apart, but suddenly, Fuu felt the vice-like grasp of Mugen's fingers around her wrist. He was incredibly strong and she bit her lip, knowing she'd have bruises on her arm tomorrow. Next thing she knew, she was being hoisted up like a rag doll.

"Hang on to me," he grunted, sweat breaking out over his skin, "I need both hands."

Fuu didn't need to be told twice! Wrapping her arms around Mugen's neck and shoulders, she desperately clung to him. Unfortunately, she caught a terrifying view of her feet and his feet dangling four stories above the cobblestones. Squeaking, she tucked her face into his neck with her eyes clenched shut and didn't mind that every time he'd swing them closer to the window, his arm would bump her head. Beneath her, Fuu felt every flex and strain of Mugen's muscled body. His perspiration was sticking to her kimono and she found herself oddly appreciative that he was still bare-chested. The sharp jut of his boney structure poked her.

For Mugen's part, he kept his mind on the job at hand. Even though Fuu's cool breath against his slick neck did feel _really _good…

"Okay, you first. On three," having arrived at the window, Mugen dropped an arm again and wrapped it around Fuu's waist, "One, two, three!" Fuu grabbed the windowsill and heaved herself over with all her might while Mugen helped lift her. But she was so overexerted and tired, that she made it about halfway before she caught on the sill. "Klutz," unceremoniously, Mugen shoved her butt as hard as he could the rest of the way through and Fuu fell haphazardly to the solid floor. With ease that Fuu was now understandably jealous of, Mugen leapt through the window.

His arms a little numb, Mugen started rolling his shoulders while leaning against the wall and panting slightly. Even he was impressed with himself! At his feet, Fuu was still sprawled out on the floor. The hem of her kimono had untied itself in the commotion and it gracefully puddled around her. She wasn't recovering so easily. When the wooden pane had broken, there had been one horrific second when she was completely air born. It was sheer luck that she was able to clutch onto the broken pane or else she surely would've fallen the four stories to the cobblestones. And if Mugen hadn't been there…she shivered, not wanting to imagine how long she would've held on until exhaustion overcame her. It was also unsettling to her that her primary emotion while hanging perilously above unforgiving cobblestones was not fear or panic (though Fuu had still felt those emotions in abundance), the main feeling had been one of unspeakable regret.

"Thanks Mugen," she whispered to the floor.

"Whatever," and suddenly, there was Mugen's hand in Fuu's face, offering to help her to her feet.

She took it and was helped up by the last man on earth Fuu would've counted on for a hand up. Yet she could always count on him to rescue her. He'd proved that time and time again. For some bittersweet reason, she couldn't bear to look him in the eye and see that 'told you so' smirk. Keeping her gaze lowered, Fuu realized that might be worse, because she now was 'face to face' with Mugen's lean chest and stomach. Her stare was immediately drawn (almost out of habit) to the bullet wound that she had so meticulously treated herself.

Actually, by the end of their journey, Fuu had become quite the nurse and her bodyguards' primary source of healthcare. It was unavoidable really. How could she not have learned a thing or two about dressing wounds when those two were always getting sliced up (and in Mugen's case, blown up)? Along the way, she had picked up several local remedies for dressing cuts and holes. She even became an expert stitcher, though anytime she approached Jin and Mugen with a needle and thread in hand they always paled and inched slowly away. She knew when to pack a wound, when to clean it, how to bandage it, how to sew it with the right stitching, and when she could let the guys handle it for themselves. Consequently, she didn't think twice about reaching out her hand and touching the bullet wound that had caused her so much worry. She had actually become very comfortable with Mugen and Jin's bodies; she had treated them so many times that she didn't give touching them a second thought. At the time, neither of the guys had ever been shot before and she wasn't entirely sure how to handle it. "Did it hurt?" she asked him.

"Like a bitch," Mugen glanced down at his battle scars, a dozen or so crisscrossing patterns that testified to his life as a Ryu-kuuian. "See?" he pointed to several newer marks and said thoughtfully, "You can tell the difference between the scars I treated and the scars you treated. Yours always come in smaller and more…fleshy, I guess." It was true, the scythe gashes, Sara's slashes, and even the shrapnel wounds he'd received when the ship exploded were all painstakingly tended to. She was happy that her 'scars' were pinker then his other ghostly white ones. She was proud that her stitches had been so small that there was no needlepoint marks to show they had even been there in the first place. And most of all, she was just glad that she could help them in her small way.

Self-consciously, Mugen itched one of his scythe scars. Fuu had the weirdest look on her face and far be it for Mugen to feel uncomfortable, but she was making him nervous.

Abruptly, she took one of his hands in her own, the left one that had been scratching his side. She tenderly spread his fingers and examined his palm. If Mugen hadn't known better, it might've appeared as if Fuu intended to read his fortune, but he knew all too well what she was staring at. Her fingertips traced the three oval marks that had pierced completely through his hand. For hours, she would wrap and re-wrap this injury, worried that if she didn't get it just right that Mugen would lose the use of some of his fingers.

These scars were for her, acquired while he was on route to rescue her. Only then did she dare to look him in the eye, or rather the cheek. Her brow scrunched in concern while studying the three scratches on his face. Of all the wounds and gunshots and slashes, this one had frightened her the most. It wasn't like it was the most serious of his injuries, far from it; in fact, it was a rather superficial wound. Yet, it was the only treatable injury Mugen had ever sustained on his face while in the care of Fuu. She was anxious and driven to reduce the size of the scars that would mar his cheek. Not like his face was completely unscarred in the first place, there was the small knick over his right eyebrow. Fuu had often found herself wondering about that particular scratch, shivering while she tried to imagine who could be that skilled as to almost cut out Mugen's right eye.

Barely realizing what she was doing until she did it, Fuu reached out to Mugen's cheek and gently caressed those three scars. She'd succeeded in her treatment, no doubt about that. While the marks were still evident, they weren't prominent, hiding in the copper of his skin almost as if they belonged there. Still, she remembered that day so vividly no amount of faded scars could ever make it disappear. She could still see him:

_Thick, wild hair was wet and sticking to his copper face. The blood from the scratches on his cheek trickled down his neck and stained his white shirt as water dripped from his long limbs. His punctured hand was raining droplets of blood that spattered the ruined floor of the church. He had never looked so tired to her; tired, bloody, and wet, but never defeated. Behind him, the ethereal blue of the water and sky shadowed his silhouette. His eyes traveled over her all too briefly, assessing her bruised face and bloody mouth and though there was no other clue in his appearance to show his feelings, his eyes flashed with rage. He had come for her._

Fuu smiled at Mugen.

Thus far Mugen had amazed himself with his self-control (in Mugen's opinion, self-control was something that happened to other people), but when Fuu smiled at him, that wonderfully bittersweet smile, Mugen felt a thrilling heat course through his body. He had her! He grabbed the hand that was so innocently petting his face and feverishly kissed her palm.

0000000

…even I'm pissed I left it right there. That's just wrong!

Anyway, hope the 'Fugen' banter was realistic and thank you, thank you, thank you all for reviewing!

Next Chapter: That Voice


	4. Chapter 4

Lemon Warning! This whole chapter is basically a lemon, that means a sex scene. The nookie is strictly vanilla-missionary, nothing traumatizing. (See? I did have a reason for last chapter's cliffhanger, I had to keep all the lemon in one chapter…and I'm also a sadist, _mwa-ha-ha_!)

Chapter Four: That Voice

He grabbed the hand that was so innocently petting his face and feverishly kissed her palm. Mugen was a man loosed.

Fuu gasped, eyes wide and disbelieving. The heat from his lips traveled directly up her trembling arm and straight to her heart, which was beating a million frantic pulses a minute. Feeling almost like an observer rather then a participant, Fuu watched as Mugen pressed kiss after kiss all over her hand. His eyes were closed, concentrating and lost in the intensity of the moment. His lips found her wrist and worshipped the delicate pulse-point he found, then he started a frenzied route down her bare arms, bending his head the further along he came. The sleeves of Fuu's kimono were still tied up and left her arm nude for Mugen's pacing lips. His stubble itched and scratched her soft skin while his mouth traveled a delicious path of delicate flesh; yet complaining was the last thing on Fuu's mind.

At her elbow, Mugen eyes sprang open and he made sure to watch Fuu's reaction as he lewdly licked the bend of her arm. Fuu couldn't help the shiver that coursed through her body, more so from Mugen's lusty glare, then from what he was doing with his tongue (which was admittedly an added bonus). She felt his warm chuckle against her skin and suddenly teeth gently nipped the inside of her elbow!

"Mugen?" she didn't mean to whisper, but somehow it was all she could manage.

He paused, glaring at her like a hawk stalks a mouse. If she wanted him to stop, then screw that, she had another thing coming! This is what he'd wanted, this is what he'd been craving, and now that he realized what exactly 'it' was, he was not letting go! "Fuu," Mugen growled and grabbed the back of her neck and head, his other hand snaked around her waist. Their bodies crashed together, followed immediately by Mugen's mouth colliding with Fuu's.

Fuu couldn't decide which was hotter, the blaze of Mugen's body pressed so powerfully against hers or the burn of his lips as he subjected her to an authoritatively demanding kiss. He pressed against her mouth hard and kept those rough kisses coming, twisting his head this way and that to gain as much access as Fuu would allow him.

Mugen was kissing her! Never in a million years did she ever think Mugen capable of seeing her as anything other then the whiny girl he hauled around Japan. The way he had treated her had made that perfectly evident. After all, she wasn't as beautiful or sophisticated or knowledgeable as the women who usually caught his eye (or as big busted) and that had always stung Fuu deep inside.

But here he was, his finger caressing her neck and ear while he practically bent her over backwards to get inside her velvety mouth. How long had he wanted this? Fuu felt a tingling thrill that maybe he had been fantasizing about this as long as she had. Not that she had ever pined over Mugen by any stretch of the word, just a little crush (or at least, that's what she endlessly reassured herself).

Both bodyguards had fascinated her, but her dependency on Jin had been different to that of Mugen. Her attachment to Jin was easy to figure out. He was samurai; he was stoic and honorable; he was incredibly strong and brave; and he was also ronin. In short, Jin was her father, a prettier version of her father, but still a paternal figure nonetheless. That's why she adored Jin, why she was dependant on him, and why she wept so bitterly when he left with Sara (it had been history repeating itself to an abandoned daughter).

Not like Mugen, there was no paternal displacement to blame for her affection for this jackass. Everything he did was wild and spontaneous, hazardous and stupid. He was a pirate and a convict, tattooed and scarred. Mugen was Edo Period's original bad boy and there was something primeval and attractive about his hedonistic self-destruction. What woman wouldn't want to give danger a spin? At least that's how Fuu justified her secret dreams about Mugen. Yet it had been a curious crush and nothing more…hadn't it? She had deliberately not allowed Mugen to accompany Sara, because sooner or later, he would've gotten lucky (actually, she knew now that Sara was just going to kill Mugen, not screw him, but Fuu hadn't known that then). So, didn't that make her…jealous? And wouldn't that mean…?

Still, who would've imagined Mugen would feel equally attracted to her? Suddenly, her little fantasies didn't seem so ridiculous and embarrassing to her.

A spark of acceptance suddenly became a roaring flame in Fuu, an overwhelming seed of desire she had never known before. She threw herself at Mugen, arms wrapping around his bony shoulders and fingers scratching along the back of his neck and scalp. Her mouth finally opened and she felt Mugen's victorious groan vibrate against her lips, followed by a slick tongue that lapped gratefully along her own. If Fuu had known Mugen was this good of a kisser, she never would've found the samurai that smells of sunflowers; instead, she would've spent the entire journey making out with Mugen!

Desperate to take this further, Mugen moved from that deliciously wanting mouth, along her jaw, and finally to her graceful neck leaving a trail of licks and kisses. At the sweetly, supple neck that he had always secretly coveted, Mugen bit her flesh just hard enough to make her gasp in delight and then continued to suck the tender skin. His whiskers were already scratching the flesh red. Her head bent back and mouth agape, Fuu petted Mugen's wild hair, urging him on. She had never imagined her neck would yield sensations this pleasurable. Every hot breath and nip of teeth had her breathless and groaning. And if Mugen could yield this kind of bliss from something as mundane as a neck, what could he do to…other more sensitive parts of her body? Just thinking of it, made Fuu's legs turn to rubber and she gratefully fell on Mugen for support.

The pirate had the samurai's daughter in a locked embrace and when he felt her go limp in his arms, he gradually stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall with an ungraceful _thump_. He slid down, inch by inch, taking her with him. She ended up on the floor with him, between his sprawled legs. Fuu latched onto his mouth again, sliding her small hands along his limber shoulders and arms. "Fuu," Mugen moaned against her lips for her excellent initiative. Son of a bitch, he needed to be touched so bad! His hands were already having a field day with Fuu's figure. Fingers ran over her kimono, tracing the curve of her spine and hips and grabbing handfuls of her pert backside. She _really _did have one fine ass. But as much as Mugen liked soft necks and round butts, his real destination was right around the corner-.

"Mugen!" Fuu cried in surprise, when both of his wandering hands abruptly grabbed her breasts and squeezed. Yet Fuu wasn't the only one in for a surprise.

"Fuck me, are those your real tits?" mouth practically watering, Mugen gave the globes of enticement another experimental squeeze.

"What else would they be?" shouting in embarrassment and frustration, Fuu attempted to seize Mugen's wrists and pull his hands off. However, Mugen was a lot stronger then Fuu and his hands stayed right where they were and kept right on fondling through the purple kimono. "Ouch!" Fuu slugged his shoulder, "Try to remember that they are attached to me, moron."

"I wanna see!" the goofiest grin spread over Mugen's face and he had already whipped off the gold braid that was holding back Fuu's sleeves and was hastily untying her obi.

"Mugen wait," Fuu wrapped her arms around her obi, preventing Mugen from undressing her. Biting her lip, she was now feeling the ebb of doubt and uncertainty. She didn't have a clue what the hell she was doing. What could he possibly want from her (besides her rack which was pretty damn obvious)? The women he rolled around with were pros. Fuu was barely a novice. Turning her flushed face away, she continued to worry her sore lip.

"Oi," Mugen said to her and there was a practicality to his voice that might've been confused for tenderness, but just barely. Caressing her cheek with two fingers, he turned Fuu's face back to him. He studied her eyes, the blush in her cheeks, the white teeth against her pink lip, and smiled at her, "Give me another kiss."

Pleased with his request, Fuu suppressed her own trepidation and leaned forward. She allowed herself to be completely consumed by him. Mugen was in control now. She didn't have to think, she just had to feel. He knew enough about sex for the both of them. The very sounds of their wet, noisy kisses calmed and thrilled her-.

"Ouch! Motherfucker!" clutching his left eye, Mugen reeled back from the hairpin that almost blinded him, "Damn it Fuu, take those friggin' things out of your hair!"

Confused, her hand patted her head and felt half a dozen sharp and pointing ornaments sticking out. "Oh," smiling apologetically, Fuu rose to her feet and crossed to a tiny mirror-stand left in the room so the girls could prep their hair and make-up, "sorry." Mugen was rubbing his eye and pouting at her with his bottom lip sticking out as if Fuu had deliberately tried to blind him. One by one, she slid the pretty pins from her brunette locks and set them down with care. While admitting they were lavishly and luxuriously beautiful, she had a sinking suspicion that they hadn't been properly cleaned in a while and therefore it was somewhat of a relief to take them out.

"Wear your hair down," Mugen spoke up and Fuu peered over her shoulder at him. Smirking, he was watching her every movement, like a lazy predator, "I like it down."

Another coy blush and Fuu's fingers where already delving into the restraints of her hair, pulling and tugging her tresses free. Her hair fell gloriously, swinging flirtatiously at her shoulders, shiny and soft. She glanced over her shoulder to see what Mugen's reaction would be and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw that he was not two inches from her face. How could someone so obnoxious move so quietly?

Hastily, his two hands wrapped themselves around Fuu's waist and she watched dazed at his tattooed forearms and wrists while he untied her obi. There was no pretension or ceremony, Mugen just whipped the obi right off and let her kimono fall open. Nonetheless, he didn't make another move to continue to undress her. Instead, he remained uncharacteristically thoughtful.

"Okay baby," Mugen was suddenly standing and walking across the room, leaning against the wall with his arms casually crossed and one leg bent, "This is what I want. Lower your kimono, slowly…_real slow, real sexy_. You gotta look at me over your shoulder, but keep your back this way, a-ight?"

Her brow knotted, Fuu looked at Mugen as if he'd lost his mind. He wanted a striptease? Somehow she always thought Mugen was more of a hands-on type of guy…and had he just called her _baby_? (Odd though it was, still a welcome change from bitch, broad, or bimbo!)

Snorting in frustration and pinching the bridge of his nose, Mugen dug his _Backwards Beauty_ out of his shorts' pocket and flashed the ukiyo-e print at Fuu. "Like this! I want you to look like this!" he pointed at the portrait with vigor.

A splash of water or the winning lottery numbers wouldn't have been this much of a shock to Fuu. That was the Moronobu picture she had modeled for! Why would Mugen be carrying around…oh? _Oo-oh_! Oh wow! Mugen was carrying around a dirty picture of her! How long had this been going on? She couldn't say for sure, but she hoped he had been hiding that ukiyo-e print for a long time, maybe even while on their journey. Wouldn't that be wild if he had been secretly lusting after her during their entire trip? Poor Mugen, tormented by her feminine wiles this whole time! She was just too cute for her own good! No wonder he was always so grumpy with her.

And just like that, she wasn't scared or nervous anymore. If Mugen was harboring a hidden desire for her, that meant she must be pleasing to some effect. Fuu felt sexy and genuinely flattered! Without a single blush (alright, maybe just the slightest tinge of pink), Fuu peered over her shoulder, mouth pouting. Gradually, she spread her arms and let the purple kimono fall inch by teasing inch. Her shoulders were exposed and Mugen watched, wiping absently at his mouth and rubbing the stubble on his chin. The soft cotton whispered seductively as it trailed down Fuu's curving back and along her arms. She paused when she heard Mugen mumble something inaudible and wipe his eyes with both hands. His stare was wild, bathing in every new exposure of peach skin. With a deep breath, she slowly exposed her petite backside and Koto was right, she did blush on both sets of cheeks.

Mugen practically growled, "Wait, hold it." In a flash, he was across the room and behind her, pressing his face into her flowing hair. "Perfect," he muttered and his hands were already trailing along her neck, "Abso-fuckin'-lutely perfect. Don't move." Finally he was going to reenact his nightly ritual with the flesh and blood _Backwards Beauty_. Man, he must've done something good in a past life, because it sure as hell wasn't in this one! Swiping her hair gently over her sloping shoulders, Mugen bent his head to line the curve of her neck with persistent kisses, all the while, swiping his calloused fingers up and down her spine. He splayed his hands out, caressing the whole of her back and marveled at how both of his hand-spans almost covered the expanse of her little torso. It reminded him of how tiny and delicate she was, especially compared to the likes of him. A fierce bout of unfamiliar protectiveness swept over Mugen.

Meanwhile, his ritual fondling had taken him to the pert hills of her blushing backside. He groaned, kissing down Fuu's back as he fell like a man humbled to his knees. "Sweet," chuckling against the small of her back, Mugen started to shamelessly grasp and pinch her bottom, "has anyone ever told you that your ass is tight?"

"No," her face on fire, Fuu was proud that her voice didn't shake when she snapped back with, "but some jerk once told me that I had nothing good to look at!"

"That dickhead's probably queer anyway," shrugging, Mugen pecked a quick kiss to the top of Fuu's right cheek and stood up. Glaring at him over her shoulder, Fuu wondered if Mugen was just playing stupid or if he really didn't remember being so cruel to her. Either way, she felt like punching him. Seeming to read her thoughts, two tattooed arms slid around her torso and two hands started to dance around her breasts. "I guess clothing really does make you look slender," he whispered hotly into her ear, "Who knew this kicking body was hiding underneath all that kimono?"

"You'd be surprise-aiihh!" gasping, Fuu shivered as Mugen's long fingers kept caressing nearer and nearer to her bust, yet refused to make contact with their intended target. She had never dreamed that she would crave a touch as acutely as this. "You'd be surprised what eating everyday can do for a girl's figure," she rushed out in one breath, shivering as the palm of Mugen's calloused hand finally cupped her left breast. "O-oh," sighing, Fuu's head fell back against his chest, "oh, Mu-ugen." She finally dropped the kimono, which had been hanging loosely off her body.

Mugen's thumb started caressing Fuu's bottom lip. His _Backwards Beauty_ fantasy was almost finished; then to hell with foreplay, his balls were turning blue! Running the rough pad of his thumb around and around those pink lips, Mugen lowered his head for another kiss and not-so-subtlety pressed his arousal against Fuu's backside. Fuu's response was to seize the free hand that rested on her cheek and force it onto her other breast. So Fuu liked her hooters played with, well that was no problem for Mugen. He chuckled into their kiss. Mugen was a boob man through and through. The set on Fuu was actually decently sized, much to his surprise and delight, enough for a proper handful at least. 'Anymore then a handful (or mouthful) is kind of a waste', Mugen conceded.

As inconspicuously as Mugen was capable of, he lowered his hand down over her flat stomach. "Hey!" on pure reflex, Fuu grabbed the descending offender and held him still. "Umm," she said dumbly. She knew she should let go of his arm, she knew it was evitable that he should start heading 'south', but virginity was a hard habit to break! "Sorry," she laughed nervously, "um, go ahead," and released his wrist.

"Maybe we should get a little more comfortable," Mugen said for her benefit. Comfort had never been a prerequisite for Mugen, he'd screw on a bed of nails if he had to, but for Fuu he could accommodate. "Come here," he said, picking her up bridal style as if she weighed no more then a feather and carried her to the futon.

Giggling and trying not to feel self-conscious that Mugen was carrying her while she was completely naked, Fuu absently covered herself with one arm. She leaned her head into Mugen's shoulder and touched his hot skin with curious fingers. Her palm splayed out over Mugen's chest, feeling the vibration of his hammering heartbeat. In the yellow lamplight, she glanced up at the silhouette of Mugen's head and shoulders. What was it about his long neck that had always attracted Fuu? No matter how twisted and spry the rest of Mugen's body was while flipping and fighting, his neck always seemed deliberately controlled like that was his true center of gravity. Wrapping one arm around his shoulder and leaning forward, she pressed her flushed body against his chest and kissed his neck twice, before playfully licking his Adam's apple.

_Whack_! "Ouch!" Fuu cried out, after Mugen unceremoniously dropped her onto the futon, "You jerk!"

"You play with fire little girl, you're gonna get hurt," he loomed over her, smirking that demon grin and openly appraising her body. "Good thing I never saw you full frontal," scratching at his chin, Mugen winked, "or we never would've found your Sunflower Dude. I would've spent the entire trip pulling you into the bushes whenever four-eyes' back was turned."

"What makes you think I would've gone with you?" Fuu smiled sarcastically and kept her legs closed with arms crossed over her chest.

One scarred eyebrow quirked in response to Fuu's question and by way of an answer, Mugen abruptly tugged off his shorts and kicked them into the corner.

…good answer...Fuu blinked, because she wasn't exactly sure what she was supposed to say in a situation like this. Was she supposed to compliment him or what?

Sure, she'd unwillingly seen Mugen naked before while nursing him back to health (also in the hot springs, when he stood up, rivets of water running down his tan stomach and thighs while his skin perspired under the hot steam…needless to say, Fuu had a difficult time banishing this particular visage from her daydreams), but he hadn't looked like _this_! This was…a completely different set of circumstances, obviously.

"The thing is," seeing her blush, Mugen knelt down on the futon, "I don't really know how to hold back, ya know?" His hand was petting her leg and for a terrible moment, Fuu remembered with great clarity the homicidal brother that had overcame her and stroked her leg in much the same fashion. But the nightmare disappeared like a ghost when Mugen kissed chapped lips along her cheek and whispered in her ear, "You know me Fuu, it's all or nothing. Don't expect me to be gentle or anything. I go all out."

It was a warning. Fuu watched his face, not four inches from her own. She studied his eyes that burned with barely restrained lust. He was telling her this for her own benefit. Last chance…no turning back. It was a surprisingly unselfish act considering Mugen's raging libido. Rolling over, Fuu forcefully pressed her body to Mugen's and whispered against his parted mouth, "I do know you Mugen," and kissed him.

The pirate was on top of her in a flash, his hands stroking anywhere and everywhere he pleased. His tongue immediately drawn to Fuu's breasts, he lapped and nibbled and kissed and sucked until Fuu was a puddle of pleasure beneath him. She involuntarily started pulling his hair to keep his tickling lips on her. And she thought Mugen's hands were good! His wicked mouth could do things to her that brought literal tears to her eyes! He traveled down her stomach, kissing her bellybutton sweetly.

Suddenly, Fuu was flipped over and Mugen was pressed against her back. He slid his body suggestively downward, cursing under his breath about the delicious friction. His hands were on the back of her thighs and stroking down to her calves. "You got some fine-ass legs, baby," Mugen shuddered when he imagined those shapely limbs wrapped around his hips, the thighs and calves squeezing him. Roughly grabbing her by the waist, Mugen lifted Fuu up and pulled her into his lap, while hands wildly traveled all over her torso. He whispered things into her ear, things that were dark and dangerous and made Fuu tremble like an autumn leaf anticipating the fall.

What followed were a few minutes of sheer dizzy disorientation for Fuu. As if she was a meal to feast upon, Mugen ravenously attacked whichever plane of skin held his fancy for the moment. Fuu was twisted and controlled like a doll under Mugen's overpowering strength. Whichever part of her he wanted to taste and touch, he grabbed and dragged forward, with authoritative control. For Fuu's part, all she could do was relax and allow him whatever access he demanded from her body. She shivered under hands that could break a man's bones and legs that could kick a man's skull in. All this power hovering over her was the most potent of aphrodisiacs! Yet it was frustrating, because it quickly became apparent that Mugen was deliberately teasing her, pleasuring a small part of her flesh until she was kicking and writhing with the delight of it all, only to pull off and laugh hoarsely at her as she groaned and attempted to keep him still.

Figures that Mugen would be just as annoying in the bedroom as out of it!

Fuu tried to keep up, touching whatever part of his body that was in reach and kissing his salty flesh when he held still long enough, but it was difficult to keep her wits about her. Making love to Mugen was like getting mauled by a wild dog and enjoying every adrenaline-soaked minute of it!

Apparently, Mugen tired of fooling around, because his ironclad grip swiftly grabbed Fuu's ankles and dragged her body down until his hips fitted perfectly between her open thighs. He grinned manically at her, his eyes more feral then she had ever seen him (and she'd seen him in frenzy, killing quite a lot of people in their time together). Calloused palms raked over and over, up and down, along her quaking flesh. Leaning over her, he kissed her more violently and more desperately then he had ever kissed a woman before.

A small gasp between their heated lips was all the noise Fuu made when Mugen thrust into her, even though it stung terribly and hurt places in Fuu that she had never known existed before! Mugen, true to his word (for once), did not hold back. There was no romantic pause while he whispered sweet comforts into her ear as he wiped away small tears with gentle kisses, not this pirate! Instead, the Ryu-uuian began a frenzied rhythm into the tight and willing body beneath him, shouting "Mensolay1!" at the top of his lungs.

(Several of the brothel patrons and prostitutes gave a moment's start and vaguely wondered what the new girl was doing to the guy on the fourth floor.)

Fuu stared at Mugen to distract herself from the discomfort. The dim lanterns lit his moist, copper skin, so that it glowed golden. His eyes were blissfully closed and his hands were placed on either side of her head, giving him excellent leverage capability. Harsh breaths filled the room as he panted. Sweat slid suggestively down his chest and arms and taking advantage of the fact that Mugen was at least staying in one place (relatively), she started to caress his body. Her nails scratched playfully along his arms and shoulders, down his chest, over brown nipples, which made Mugen grunt and quicken his pace, and finally down the defined muscles of his flexing abdomen. Mugen had a beautiful body, all lines and angles. It was scorching hot against Fuu's own.

Out of the blue, a sharp flutter of pleasure shot straight through her dulling pain and Fuu suddenly grinded up against him, crying out in surprise, "Mugen!"

That voice, the way she had said his name! Mugen immediately stopped all movement. Staring at her wide-eyed and speechless, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. That voice…

"Don't stop!" in frustration, Fuu yelled and attempted to reset the pace herself by thrusting up to Mugen. "That was actually starting to feel…," she struggled breathlessly to discover a word that could adequately describe the electric sensation that had whispered to her of even greater pleasures to come, but all she could come up with in her desperate stupor was, "…good!"

But all Mugen could hear was that voice…

_"Mugen!" that broken-hearted voice had cut through the numbing silence, except for the fatalistic flap of bird wings, "Mugen!" To return meant pain, meant blood, meant defying the crow men that stood like silent sentinels watching and waiting with granite patience for inevitability. "Mugen!" yes, to return meant pain and blood on that smoking, sandy beach, but it also meant her…to have just one more day to feel the sun on his face with her beside him. She had cried for him, no one had ever cried for him. She was crying for him now, "Mugen!" He followed the sound of her voice._

_This was the voice that kept the crow men away._

_This was the voice that brought him back from the dead._

"Hn," he murmured, shaking off the memory before it withered his arousal. Near death experiences were never good for keeping it up. Lowering himself to his elbows, he hovered above her and traced his long fingers all over her face. Mugen kissed her, a slow, thorough kiss that he hoped might convey all the gratitude he couldn't bring himself to verbalize. "Keep saying my name," he roughly choked out, continuing the rock of his hips.

"Mugen," gasping, Fuu would've done anything for him at that moment, just as long as he didn't stop moving in that marvelous way! The pain was nothing now; all that mattered was the overwhelming pleasure that made her toes curl and teeth clench. Her legs wrapped forcefully around his slender hips and she urged him on, "Mugen." He was so close to her now, pressing his scarred and hard chest against her softly pliant one. Their flat stomachs started clapping quietly together. His arms were wrapped under Fuu and driving her down in time with his hips. Mugen tucked his face close to hers, breathing harshly into her ear and groaning. The fresh scent of her hair tickled his nostrils.

"Mu…," Fuu couldn't trust her voice anymore. She was moaning and whimpering as if any control of her body had been usurped by pure instinct. "Mugen!" there was something building, a pooling tide that made Fuu's limbs shake uncontrollably. She was desperate to finish, felt like she was half-mad in want of it. Nothing else in the world mattered except this thing between herself and Mugen. Her mind spinning, her body aching, her blood racing and finally a breathless gasp, "_M-Mugen_!" and there was sheer white-hot pleasure that shook her very soul and overwhelmed her senses, tickling and stroking places that no hand could touch. Shivering and crying out in small mewls, Fuu rode the rest of her bliss out and had never felt so utterly…s_atisfied._

Nails raked (none too gently) down Mugen's back and she arched up into him in the most eye-crossing and ball-tightening way. Was there nothing as erotic as a woman in the throes of passion? As for Mugen, he wasn't far off either. Just the sight of Fuu breathless and sweaty was sending bolts of lightening down his spine, not to mention the silken heat tightening around his already strained member. His thrusts were becoming increasingly aggressive and sporadic. Not long now…

"…Mugen…" Fuu whispered in that voice against his chin and clamped her mouth over his, tongue slick and demanding.

_For that voice, he came back._

"Fu-uck!" muffled by Fuu's sweet lips, Mugen grunted. His body shuddered violently while he released into the beautiful girl beneath him, kissing her back with manic fervor as he thrust twice more to extend the pleasurable spasms. Her body was slick and welcoming under him. Completely spent and thoroughly gratified, Mugen collapsed on top of Fuu. Eyes closed, he laid perfectly still, breath still laboring to catch up with him. As for his hand, it was drawn to Fuu's left breast like a magnet and there it stayed, cupping her gently.

Not that Fuu was complaining, the press and feel of Mugen's lanky body was comforting to her post-coital shivers. Idly, her hands rubbed his back and ran through his tangled hair. Fuu found her voice first, fidgeting with one of his blue-jade earrings as she giggled, "That was…wow."

"Ditto."

"Is it always like that?"

"With me it is," he emphasized his point by squeezing her breast.

"For a second there," she whispered girlishly, "I thought I was going to pass out."

"Wouldn't have bothered me none," Mugen spit out some of Fuu's hair, "I would've kept right on humping."

"You dog," smiling, Fuu playfully scratched behind his ears.

"Arf," he groaned, finally working up the strength to roll over and crack his back, "Could you hit the lights, Fuu?" Yawning, he stretched out over the futon, one arm crooked over his eyes.

"Sure," Fuu muttered and reached out her arm to snatch her kimono up from across the room. She tried not to feel too disappointed that Mugen just wanted to roll over and sleep, even though she wanted to talk, to make this moment last forever. She wanted to tell him about how much she missed him, about how she cared for him, and how sexy she always thought he was! It was safe to tell him now, wasn't it? But above all, she wanted to thank him for tonight, for making it…wonderful. Sighing, Fuu wrapped her purple kimono around her nudity as she blew out the lanterns one by one. Outside the moon shone bright and carefree, but Fuu shut the window to the night sky. In a few hours the sun would be rising in the east. Somewhere nearby, a wind chime giggled its song in the soft breeze.

The kimono slipped off Fuu's shoulders and she climbed naked onto the futon, where Mugen's muscled arm abruptly seized her by the waist and tucked her in next to him (he wasn't 'cuddling' he reassured himself; Mugen just wanted to cop a feel of her tits while Fuu slept). The sentiment would've been sweeter had not two minutes later, he started snoring in her ear and steeling the blankets. She lay quietly for a long time, watching his shadow sleep in the darkness.

Fuu's horoscope for the day had read, "Expect little sleep tonight." It sure as hell wasn't kidding. When she finally did fall asleep, her dreams were filled with tattoos and scars.

As for Mugen, no crow men bothered him that night, but some sunflowers did.

0000000

1 Mensolay: a phrase of celebration in Okinawa (Ryu-kuu), usually shouted to others while dancing. (Just thought it would be extremely appropriate if Mugen shouted it during nookie!)

Well, our heroes have consummated their relationship and are now as close as ever, nothing but clear skies ahead…right? Yeah, right! (I'm working on the last chapter right now, and it _might_ be six chapters, instead of five, unless I can get my 'flow' to work better.)

Next Chapter: Some Faith

PS You guys and your reviews make me feel all warm and fuzzy! Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

Violence Warning: This chapter contains **violence** (a little done to the good guys, a _lot_ done to the bad guys). There is blood and loss of assorted body parts.

Attention: This is now a six-part instead of a five-part, the last chapter was lengthened and split into two. So this is _not_ the end…

See previous chapters for disclaimer and other warnings:

Chapter Five: Some Faith

"Excuse me sir," Koto's sultry voice seeped through the rice paper door, awakening Fuu from her slumber, "Your time is finished. It is morning. We hoped you enjoyed our Kura's first night. Please return and visit us again soon." From Fuu's place on the futon, she was surprised to hear Mugen up and moving around already. When had he woken up? Her body felt chilled where he had been pressed against her and she dreamily trailed her hand over the place where Mugen had recently been, still warm from the heat of his skin.

Rolling over, Fuu saw that he was already dressed and tossing on his red gi. "Hold your horses," Mugen yawned, sliding open the door to reveal Koto, who immediately bowed to him. Behind him, Fuu wrapped the blankets over her body and sat up. She watched the back of Mugen with growing anxiety.

"Good morning sir," Koto said, eyes half-lidded and sultry, "I trust all needs were satisfied?"

"Hellz yeah," grinning, Mugen stretched and popped his sore muscles and bones while walking out of his rented room, "Best five ryo I ever spent." An elderly maid offered to escort Mugen downstairs and he followed her, hands clasped behind his head. Over his shoulder, he half-heartedly twiddled his fingers, "See ya, Kura." And without one look at Fuu, Mugen was gone.

That's when it rudely hit Fuu that she was still trapped inside a brothel and thanks to Mugen, she had completely forgotten about escaping. How could he just leave her like that? After last night, after what they shared…but like cold, ice water to the face, Fuu realized that the only thing they had shared was what every prostitute shares with her john every night. It's not like there had been any promises or even soft words between them. He got what he'd come for.

Mugen had come to her expecting a lay for five ryo and that's exactly what Fuu delivered. Jeez, she really was a whore…

Now not only did she have to escape, but it was also critical that she hunt down Mugen and kick him in the balls! _Really hard_!

"Let's have a look at you, kid," noticing the pale pallor of Fuu's face, Koto approached her and lowered the blanket that Fuu had been holding to her body. Fuu sat shamefaced and embarrassed while the senior prostitute examined her. "Men are like dogs," Koto snorted, tapping her tobacco-stained teeth, "they mark their territory even though another dog is waiting around the corner to piss on the same post." She was referring to the half dozen hickeys that graced Fuu's breasts and neck, "Next time, don't let them mark you up unless they agree to pay extra. It's not house policy, but it's an easy way to get more tips. Besides, your next customers won't like it." Back to business as usual, Koto threw Fuu's yellow nagajuban over her shoulders and tugged her up by the elbow, "Alright kid, I'll show you the routine. It's bath time and you'll wanna get a head start. They boil the water only once to save fuel and by the time the last girl's washed the water's freezing. Make sure to scrub your crotch twice, some of these guys have the clap."

Gross! Fuu hadn't even thought of that. It would be just like Mugen to give her crabs or something else equally disgusting! She was going to kick him _so hard_…

"Breakfast is in an hour," Koto glided out to the hallway with Fuu in tow, "Again, don't be late. The girls keep eating till everything's gone. After that, chores, it's nothing too backbreaking. The maids do most of the hard work. We just need to help keep things tidy. Once chores are done, we get to nap, best part of the day. This is when you'll get your primary sleeping done, so don't waste it, kid." Following dutifully downstairs, Fuu peered into vacant rooms and saw several scenes of spilled sake and rice with messy futons and stained sheets. Many girls were dressing into their wrinkled kimonos of the night before. They watched suspiciously out of the corner of their eye, until they could identify the footsteps as another working girl. Some didn't look at all, just staring with empty gazes at the ground as they tied their front obis. "You'll get used to sleeping during the day," added Koto, "and if you're tipped, find a good hiding place. We're whores here, not your sisters. Never forget that, no matter how friendly we get. There isn't one of us that wouldn't steal the gold out of her mother's teeth and that includes me."

All in all, it was a rather honest thing for Koto to say.

"And one more thing kid, the most important advice I could ever teach you," abruptly, the senior prostitute stopped and Fuu barely avoided crashing into her. Koto spun about and spoke very precisely, looking Fuu straight in the eye, "Never-fall-in-love. Go that? There isn't a customer here worth pining over. Johns do not good lovers make. Every now and then, some stupid, naïve girl gets taken in and it's nothing but drama when her crush starts paying for some other ass. Love has caused more suicides here then bushido does at the Shogun's palace. You got all that?"

Fuu nodded.

Smirking, Koto quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms, "Good. Then you'll stop with the puppy-dog eyes and sighing?"

"I'm sorry?" Fuu's brow scrunched in bewilderment.

"Look kid," the senior whore pinched the bridge of her nose and _tsk_-ed, "I'm not judging you. It's only natural for a girl to fall in love with her first time. He paid hard cash for you, not too much, but five ryo is five ryo. To top it off, he was good-looking too. So I can understand how you might think you're in love."

"Love?" Fuu didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"C'mon," Koto continued her route to the bathhouse, "I saw how you were staring at him. I can tell by the expression on your face right now. You're positively broken hearted."

And that's when the truth finally hit Fuu like a shovel to the face.

'Holy crap,' she stopped in her tracks, hand to her gaping mouth, 'I do love Mugen!' Of all the stupid epiphanies to have about one's self! To have fallen in love with that crazy, dirty, womanizing, rude, immature, foreign devil without even knowing it…well just because it was factual didn't make it obvious or easy to take. "YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!" she shouted out loud. Several whores stuck their heads outside their rooms to see what all the fuss was about. Fuu didn't care. There were far more important things to freak out about.

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'_I _love Mugen. I love _Mugen_. I _love _Mugen,' no matter how many times she went over her feelings in her head, the same statement kept replaying itself over and over. She hoped that maybe it wouldn't be true anymore. That if she kept obsessing over it, sooner or later there would be some fault or flaw in her thinking, kind of like how a word doesn't sound like a word anymore if it's repeated over and over.

But it wasn't working! 'I love Mugen. Mugen whom I love. Love I have for Mugen,' her head was aching from all the pressure her heart was making. Not only was it apparent that she did, in fact, love Mugen, but it was also obvious that she had loved him for a long while. Suddenly, all the times she had watched him sleep, all the times she had tended him, all the times she had ranted at him for attention, all the tears she had shed for him (or because of him) were all evident and unavoidable proof that she loved him! Not to mention the fact that sometimes she had missed Mugen so acutely it was like a physical pain in her gut. How could she have been so blind? It was _so_ obvious!

Jin probably knew too, that sneaky, tight-mouthed, four-eyed bastard! Would it have killed him to clue her in to the fact that she was in love with Mugen?

This was quite possibly the worst headache Fuu had ever had.

"Never would've guessed it," Koto interrupted her thoughts.

"Mm?" Fuu stood up from with rag in hand, wiping her brow. After a chilly sponge bath and an even colder breakfast, Fuu had been assigned to floor duty. She dashed up and down the corridors, rag mopping up the floorboards and leaving the other girls in her dust. Fuu didn't mind. She was actually rather fond of housework. Her best thinking was done while she was doing her chores. It was a very meditative time for her.

And saints knew, she had a lot to think about!

"I never would've guessed that you were the daughter of a samurai," smiled Koto. The senior prostitute during the day was barely recognizable as the voluptuous courtesan she was at night. For one thing, her age was more noticeable in the sunlight then by lamplight. No cosmetics masked her face and her skin was naturally tan and rosy with a few freckles dotting her cheeks. Koto dressed in her nagajuban like all the other whores did during the day and the simple clothing made her plainer, almost ordinary. Fuu was reminded of an old neighbor that was a close friend of her mother. The neighbor was a middle-aged widow who laughed harder then any other adult Fuu knew as if to spite her sorrow. If Fuu had met Koto on the street, she would've seemed like any other Japanese woman with a family to feed and a home to take care of. "You work your ass off," she explained, "Didn't think the samurai class knew the value of a good day's work."

In the back of Fuu's mind, she saw Jin quirk an irritated eyebrow.

Jin…

If Jin had been the one to stumble onto her in a brothel, you could've bet your bottom ryo that he would've rescued her! No questions asked. She was the closest thing the ronin samurai had to a 'master' and though it probably wasn't specifically mentioned in the laws of bushido, Fuu was certain that allowing your master to rot in a whorehouse was definitely against the rules! For crying out loud, Jin had rescued Shino from that cathouse and he had only known her for a few days! Jin would've performed some daring and remarkably brave escape scenario (in his cool and calculating manner of course) and he would've done it without seducing her. He wouldn't have spent five ryo and expected her to put out. He wouldn't have exhausted the night making love to her and driving her to insane heights of pleasure. Then he sure as hell wouldn't have waved goodbye and said, "See ya, Kura," in that obnoxious Ryu-kuuian, bad boy accent of his-

Wait a second…who was she talking about again?

Oh yeah, Mugen…_I love him_…Damn it! Would she ever be able to control her mind again or would her heart forever add 'I love Mugen' to every sentence she thought of like some elongated, mental period? Why was she doing this? Mugen abandoned her, he left her to a life of prostitution. What kind of man could be so heartless? It was too cruel; it was unforgivable! How could she love him after he had forsaken her?

It was a completely depressing thought and a tad melodramatic, which sadly made her think of her father, the Persecuted-Sunflower-Christian-Samurai. Yep, that was Fuu all right, forever tied to that cross in the church, abandoned and beaten, hopeless and doubting.

It was the image of the cross that reminded her…

_Have some faith in me, would ya?_ she could hear Mugen's voice echo in the ruins of the charred church. She remembered him, how he was that day…_the blood and water, the rage_ and she remembered the bittersweet guilt she felt when she realized that he had come for her. She had doubted him!

Uh-oh…like she was doubting him now…

Wait a minute…"See ya Kura," Mugen had said to her before he left. _See ya_…

It hit her with all the grace of a ton of bricks. "He's coming back for me," suddenly, Fuu whispered fiercely under her breath and Koto quirked her head, wondering if she had heard Fuu correctly. 'See ya'! What else could it mean? Mugen was coming back for her! It was like some sort of code; after all, Koto had been right there and he wouldn't have wanted to give them away. That's why he called her Kura, instead of Fuu. He couldn't tip off Koto that he knew Fuu personally. Because that's what Mugen did, he rescued her, he protected her, when all her chips were down, he'd go right on playing! This time he wasn't even obligated to save her. And the only reason Mugen would have for rescuing Fuu this time is if he felt some sort of genuine affection for her.

There was a solid certainty to this fact. If Mugen came for her, then he must care for her. And Mugen was most definitely coming to rescue her, on this point she would never doubt him again. She had faith in him, even if no one else did; she had learned her lesson well.

Hope is the most inspiring of all feelings and Fuu felt wonderfully giddy and drunk from it. It was a fantastic sensation-

-followed abruptly by stark terror as a hand swiftly seized Fuu's collar from around the corner and dragged her with unarguable strength down the hall.

"What the-?" disoriented, her head whipping around violently, Fuu finally caught sight of her attacker. It was the yakuza guard from last night, the one she had cut with her tanto while trying to escape! Immediately, she dug her heels into the wooden floorboards and started screaming for help, "Koto! Koto, help me! Help somebody!"

"Shut up, little cunt," grinning with mad yellow teeth, the goon wrapped his hand around Fuu's arm and roughly tossed her into the open courtyard. Her arms flailed about trying to keep balance, but then she felt a hand ruthlessly push her back. She attempted to keep her bare feet under her, but she tripped and slid to a halt on her side in pebbles and dirt. Around her, the four other yakuza from the night before stood smirking down at her, especially the one she had kicked in the balls. Behind them, two more thugs nudged each other and maliciously pointed at Fuu. Apparently, they were just two yakuza rubberneckers.

"What the fuck?" Koto followed, storming into the courtyard and Fuu instantly tried to crawl towards her for protection, but a badass kicked at her until she held still. Hand on hips, the senior prostitute grinded her teeth in agitation, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Boss says to teach this one a lesson about escaping," one of the men spat on the ground next to Fuu's head, "Seems like he won't tolerate no shit from you whores since the ex-Madam jacked so much cash from him."

"Yeah, he thinks maybe he's been too easy on you bitches."

"Gotta keep you hoes in line."

Her finger tapping her stained teeth, Koto glanced quickly at Fuu. She made up her mind. "Then I'll whip her myself," attempting to march forward and claim Fuu, she was blocked by one of the yakuza guards.

"We ain't whipping her," another thug snorted and laughed.

Slowly, Koto glared at each man, each terrible grin, each spiteful eye. There were five filthy faces before her and two in the background. Each one had the same cruel sneer. It was quite evident to a seasoned hooker like Koto what their intentions were. "No," she finally glanced down at Fuu and the worry and panic Fuu saw on her face frightened her, "there's too many of you."

"She should've thought of that before she took off."

"Or shanked up my arm."

"Or jacked me in the jewels!"

"You'll break her," Koto suddenly leapt forward, her hands frantically reaching for Fuu, "There's too many of you!"

"Back off!" a guard backhanded Koto hard enough to leave her staggering with a red print upon her freckled cheek. Crying out, Fuu unthinkingly moved towards Koto, but the ringleader, the bastard she had cut with her tanto, hit her in the face with the unforgiving palm of his hand. Her little head whipped back and immediately, Fuu tasted red copper on her lip. Clasping her mouth and feeling warm blood seep through her fingers, she stared pleadingly at Koto to do something.

Koto held her stinging cheek in her hand, staring apologetically at Fuu. Hastily, the senior prostitute spun about and ran away. Her heart sinking, Fuu watched the back of Koto disappear into the brothel. She heard the bare footsteps fade away. Above her, the yakuza guard she had kicked in the groin the night before was kneeling down and reaching for her throat, his hand already unfastening his hakama-.

'I'll go to the Boss myself!' swiftly sprinting towards the entrance of the cathouse, Koto was thinking desperately to herself, 'Boss Yutaka's always liked me. Maybe I can beg him; maybe I can change his mind. I have to _try_ to convince him!' Normally, Koto was a practical and distant woman who didn't stick her neck out for anybody. Deep down she knew that the odds of changing Boss Yutaka's mind about anything were virtually nada, but there were just too many of them! That sort of thing wasn't prostitution, that sort of thing was…unspeakable. This girl, what was it about her that reminded Koto of a name she no longer went by and a life that disappeared twenty years ago?

She had to try, for that girl who had to die so the woman today could survive.

Dashing out the curtained entryway, Koto slid to a halt as a long, thin shadow fell over her. Suddenly, it was very cold and she shivered, almost forgetting her panicked task as she stared at the wild man before her. She unconsciously blew a few strands of her loose hair from her face, while they glared at each other warily.

He was giving her a 'very-expressive-look'.

"Hurry, this way," before she knew it, Koto was turned around and motioning him to follow, "She needs you."

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"Stop fighting it, girly," gradually, the man getting on top of her started to squeeze his fingers around her throat. Fuu thrashed and kicked until spots danced before her eyes. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs for Mugen, but the thug hovering over her was choking the very air out of her. Callused and dirty hands were running up her legs, forcing her trembling thighs apart. Someone stepped on her right wrist to stop her from striking her attacker. Someone else grabbed her left hand and threatened to break it, if she didn't hold still. Fear became a tangible stab in her gut and Fuu shivered uncontrollably.

"She's a feisty, little bitch. Isn't she?" the ringleader stepped forward and he lewdly grabbed his crotch, suggestively stroking himself, "She can handle a suck and a fuck at the same time." Others cheered him while he knelt down at Fuu's head, groin perched precariously above her face.

'No!' Fuu couldn't speak it, but her whole mind screamed it. She renewed her struggle, turning her face away from the hand that was trying to pry her mouth open-.

_Clip_…_Clang_…_Clip_…_Clang_…

Fuu listened, her heart hammering in her chest. Well it was about damn time!

One by one, each yakuza guard stopped their advances and turned their heads towards the strange, metallic noise. The brothel was officially closed until twilight, but sometimes johns would pay extra for services during the day, though it wasn't common. They stayed quiet as the _clips _drew closer. It sounded almost like footsteps, but who would be so rude as to wear geta in the brothel?

"'Sup," Mugen strolled into the courtyard, hands nonchalantly in his pockets. Behind him, the senior prostitute watched anxiously over his shoulder. The vagrant didn't seem half as concerned as he should be and she wondered if she just made a horrendous miscalculation in bringing him here.

Actually, Mugen had never felt so unstable in his entire life. The image of those five dickheads manhandling Fuu was burnt into his mind like scar tissue. If he closed his eyes, he'd still see those yakuza dead men on top of her, forcing and hurting her, only he'd see it in bright red. Leave it to Fuu to get into this kind of trouble in only a few hours. He should have never left her alone.

In all truth, it's not like he had a lot of choice in the matter. That morning, Mugen had awoken an hour before sunup, intending to make a hasty exist before Fuu could start whining about 'escaping' (or worse yet, she might want to _talk)_, well that was the plan at least. Instead, Mugen sat up in the futon, watching the first light of day turn from dusky grey to pale orange against Fuu's hair and skin. She slept like a child, lips parted and legs tangled in the blankets. Unconsciously, she snuggled into his warmth with her little fist clenched under her chin. All the while, Mugen kept hearing her voice playing over and over in his head. Several times he rose to get dressed, only to return to watch her some more. Damn, he wanted her. He just…_wanted_ her and it almost made him want to strangle her in frustration, because he didn't know why. Imagining what it would be like if he just got up and left, he discovered that the very idea of someone else paying and screwing her made his teeth grind with hatred. There was no way he could leave her here.

And since he wanted Fuu anyway, Mugen decided to take her with him. Why the hell not? It's not like there weren't several practical reasons to travel with Fuu; she was thoroughly fuckable, she was good company when she wasn't complaining (in fact, Mugen and Fuu had often laughed themselves silly, mostly at Jin's expense), she was handy around a campfire, and she apparently had the power to keep the crow men away. Not to mention that he missed her, in his own bitter regard, and Mugen was all about immediate gratification. If he wanted her, then what else was there to think about?

So he left that morning on a mission, to locate a safe house where Fuu and him could shack up until the heat died down. Stealing a whore from the Yutaka gang was no small matter; there'd be a hunt for them. If Mugen were by himself he'd march brazenly around town until they found him, but since Fuu would be depending on him too, they'd have to lay low for a while (as much as it pissed him off to have to hide from a fight). Luckily, he remembered the roadside bandits he had killed on his way into town. An hour of poking around the nearby forest, he discovered their hideout, a small hut hidden on the leeside of a cave. It was perfect. After using his last ryo to stock the safe house with food and supplies, Mugen headed back to the brothel and not a moment too soon. If he'd been a few minutes later…he blanched at the thought, the very idea nauseating him.

"Koto," one of the observing guards, motioned his head at the intruder, "who the hell is this bum?" Said bum was cracking his fingers with vigor.

"I'm a repeat customer," Mugen said proudly, his thumb cocked at Fuu, "of hers." Fuu's tear-filled eyes fell on Mugen, shining with hope not only because he had come for her (yet again), but also because now that she realized she loved him, she felt her soul soar simply by looking at him. They had only been parted for a few hours; still Fuu stared at Mugen as if she was desperate to memorize him. All too briefly, his gaze flickered over her. His smile was friendly, his posture was relaxed, no outward signs of his homicidal intent, but Fuu saw clearly the rage in his eyes. Mugen wanted blood and lots of it.

The man squeezing Fuu's throat relented a little and Fuu literally choked on her own breaths as she struggled to fill her starved lungs with oxygen. He had managed to pry her thighs apart and was kneeling between her knees. "As you can see, pal," he said, friendly enough, "she's busy now. You'll have to wait your turn."

"We promise they'll be some pussy left over," another thug suggestively slapped Fuu's hip, "and she's got a _big_ mouth."

"Believe me, I know," his smirk disappeared briefly as he watched a few blood droplets run down Fuu's chin and stain her bright yellow nagajuban, but it returned moments later as a sadistic grin, "The problem is I don't do sloppy seconds." Mugen paused to count on his fingers, "Or sloppy eighths."

The two observing yakuza warily stood up.

"Koto," the guy Fuu had kicked, the one between her legs, yelled over his shoulder, turning back around to tear at the sash holding Fuu's nagajuban closed, "throw this asshole out and tell him to come back later tonight! Son of a bitch," distracted and swearing at Fuu's complicated butterfly-knot, he grabbed Fuu's collar and tried to rip it open-.

The swift sound of steel-lined geta sprang over rocks and grass.

A few flecks of blood abruptly struck Fuu's forehead, making her flinch. She heard the collective gasp of her tormentors and a telltale gurgling noise. When she reluctantly opened her eyes again, a sword was protruding grotesquely through the yakuza guard's throat. The red and silver caught the sunlight in the strangest way, so that for a second, Fuu thought the blade was crudely winking at her.

Mugen had stabbed the bastard straight through the neck. True to his bloodthirsty frenzies, he remained smiling, even when he propped his foot on the dead man's shoulder so he could wrench his sword out the other side, almost decapitating the body. "You badasses wanna fight me or are ya gonna piss yourselves?" holding his weapon at ready, Mugen beckoned them forward.

Snapped out of their shock, the four yakuza still holding Fuu down awkwardly jumped up and grabbed for their katanas. However, Fuu knew better then to leap up into kicking range. Instead, she rolled over and covered her head in her hands. Good thing too, because Mugen instantly fell to the ground next to her, his legs in the air. One swift jerk of his hips and Mugen was spinning on his back like a demented top. With jaw-cracking accuracy his steel-lined geta socked two thugs in the face and another in the gut. The ringleader backed away, narrowly missing the flying feet.

By now, the two yakuza bystanders surged forward, blades coming down at Mugen. His left geta caught the first katana with anticlimactic ease, while he leapt up into a one-armed handstand. He literally 'walked' up the guy's body, until he reached the throat where he kicked the Adam's apple with merciless force. There was a terrible _crack_ as something broke in the man's neck and he fell to the ground limply. Wielding his sword with his free hand, Mugen then struck out like a cobra at the second thug's shin. "Ah man," disappointed, he sighed, flipping up to stand on his feet again. He had intended to completely hack the foot off, but instead, he managed to slice a vertical hunk of calf. It was just as effective, but losing a limb is always more dramatic in Mugen's opinion.

He barely registered the bozo's screams as he tried to clasp his leg back together.

Two dead, one lame, and four to go.

Nose broken, the goon that had been threatening to break Fuu's wrist seized a pistol from inside his kimono. True to the code of 'rescued heroines', Fuu screamed a warning at Mugen, gracefully clutching her hands to her heart. Trembling and sweating, the thug attempted to cock the weapon and ready it for fire, but Mugen was inches from his face in a blinding instant. "Shame about guns," he quirked his head like he was genuinely giving a good bit of advice while ramming his blade between the man's ribcage, "prep time's too damn long. Swords on the other hand," and here Mugen jerked his weapon out of his chest, never minding the horrible sucking sound or the splatter of blood at his feet, "nothin' faster then steel, I always say."

Make that three dead, one lame, and three to go.

However, the lame one was trying, rather pathetically, to crawl away. "Sonavabitch," frowning dispassionately, Mugen threw his sleeved tanto into the man's back. The blade whirled through the air, whispering as it spun until it embedded into the sleazebag's flesh with a dull _thud_. "Not one of you bastards leaves here alive! Got that?" Mugen kicked the limp body over, until it turned dead eyes to the sky.

Four dead, still three to go.

"Got just one question for you pussies," he propped his sword on his shoulder, the smile vanishing into a straight-lipped expression that was ten times more disconcerting, because of its blank demeanor. Strolling up to Fuu, who was still sitting on the ground (she'd witnessed enough Mugen-massacres to know that the safest course of action was to hold still and avoid getting within striking distance), he grasped her chin and squeezed her cheeks in a morbidly comical way. Her busted lip was already swelling and purple, the blood was caking around her mouth, "Who did this?"

Needless to say, no answer was immediately forthcoming.

"If I have to ask her," Mugen shook Fuu's head for emphasis, "things are gonna go _really_ freakin' bad for all three of you pricks."

Still no response, but they did glance nervously at each other.

"Who touched her FUCKING FACE?" he shouted, skin bright red and spit flying from his mouth. Mugen's temper was finally showing itself in all its manic glory. He didn't just want these guys dead, he wanted them _hurt_, he wanted them _bleeding_, he wanted _pain_. No one touched Fuu, but him.

Mutely, the two yakuza goons pointed at the ringleader, his arm still bandaged from where Fuu had cut him the night before. The ringleader leapt back, sputtering inaudibly and waving his katana around. He shot hateful glares at his two treacherous companions, before backing up into a wall where he promptly broke out in a cold sweat.

"Good, I was kinda worried I already killed the motherfucker," the smirk returned in full malicious might, "You two dudes can die fast!" Rushing at them, Mugen slid under their defensive parries and slashed upward into a complete circle, his sword shooting sparks while it traveled over cobblestones. The sharp blade caught both guys in the stomach. He came to a stop a few feet in front of the ringleader, who gawked in terror when the two swordsmen silently fell behind Mugen as he stood up.

Six dead…

"You," Mugen pointed with his sword, "can die slow."

"Fuu!" and Fuu nearly leapt out of her skin when Koto clasped her by the elbow. She had completely forgotten Koto was still there! "C'mon kid. We gotta get out of here. Move!" Keeping a wary eye on Mugen while he gradually cornered the last yakuza guard, Koto pulled roughly on Fuu's arm. Her face was ashen and perspiring. Senior prostitute or not, Koto had never seen the likes of Mugen before and in her strong opinion, the further they could got from this ballistic psycho the better! "I know where our things are kept, we gotta get some street clothes and disappear for awhile," she whispered to Fuu.

Deciding that she most definitely didn't want to witness exactly what Mugen was planning to do to this creep (however justified she felt), Fuu let herself be lead away by Koto. Besides, she needed her tanto and her clothes back!

The samurai's daughter and senior hooker entered the left wing of the brothel, running down the corridor hand in hand. Behind them, the yakuza ringleader gave a sharp, inhuman scream, followed by the hoarse laughter of the Ryu-kuuian.

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This chapter's original draft needed a lot of reconstruction. Luckily, I realized why I was so dissatisfied with it: I had a Samurai Champloo fic without a decent sword fight! I mean c'mon, Mugen _has_ to have a proper kick-ass-scene. So I re-wrote the action sequence, giving Mugen his dues and the fifth chapter became way too long, hence the creation of a sixth chapter. I'm really happy with the final result.

Next chapter, last chapter: Haven't titled it yet, but I'm sure it will be snazzy!

Thank you all! Reviews are like chocolate, gimme some! (Please:)


	6. Chapter 6

See previous chapters for disclaimer and warnings.

So here it is, the final chapter!

Chapter Six: The Welcoming World

Frantically, Koto whipped the rug out from inside the closet floor. It was the third plank on the right, if she remembered correctly. Her hands wandered over the floorboards until she felt the false knot in the wood. Popping it out, she stuck two fingers in to free the hidden latch. The floorboard sprang open and she removed it, sticking her hand into the underground compartment to search.

A bloody sword slid under her neck. Koto froze.

"Oi," scowling, Mugen knelt down to the prostitute's eye level, "here I thought we were getting along okay. You took me to Fuu, no questions asked, didn't interfere. Then I turn my back for a minute and you take her away? You wouldn't be double crossing me, would ya? 'Cause I may not enjoy killing women," here he pressed the blade against her flesh, "but I'll do what I gotta, bitch."

"Knock it off, Mugen," Fuu rounded the corner, frowning at the sword so close to Koto's throat, "She's helping! We were just getting our stuff." As way of proof, Fuu held up her lacquered tanto, "Unless you think we could hike down the street in blood-stained jubans and _not_ get caught."

Glancing over Fuu and suspiciously at Koto, Mugen saw that they were indeed changed into functional street clothes; Fuu in her classic pink kimono and Koto dressed more maturely in a light grey one. Actually, Mugen figured Koto wasn't trying to pull anything, but for one seriously pissed-off-moment he had turned around and Fuu wasn't anywhere to be seen. What was he supposed to think? The ditz was always getting herself kidnapped! "Don't think I forgot about my change," he snorted spitefully and removed his sword from Koto's neck, "You jipped me out of thirty mon last night."

The prostitute released a shaky breath.

"Would you grow up!" Fuu socked his arm, ignoring his pout.

"I'm sorry?" raising his hand to his ear, Mugen sarcastically growled, "What was that? What did you say, Fuu? Was it something like, 'Thank you Mugen, for saving my fine ass, yet again'?"

"You jerk-," in a flash, Fuu went from raging to melting, from ranting to giggles, "What was that? _Fine_ ass? Usually, you say skinny or scrawny." Coyly self-conscious, she blushed and pretended to smooth out her wrinkled kimono over her hips before bowing her head, "Thank you Mugen."

Pleased, Mugen smirked to himself, eyeing the curve to her waist and mentally noting that Fuu was enthusiastically susceptible to flattery. "Yeah, well whatever," clearing his throat, Mugen headed towards the hallway, "Those bastards had it coming."

Fuu dutifully followed. "Come on Koto. We're leaving," calling back over her shoulder, she almost ran into Mugen who abruptly stopped.

"Bullshit!" he spun around to thrust a finger at Koto as if she had just rudely invited, herself, "She ain't coming!" She blinked up at him from where she knelt before the hidden compartment.

Turning from Mugen to Koto and back again, Fuu tried to explain without 'telling-Mugen-what-to-do' (because 'no-one-told-Mugen-what-to-do'), "But she really looked out for me while I was here."

"I don't give a flying fuck, I ain't Captain-Save-A-Hoe!"

"Please Mugen," clasping his red gi, Fuu stared pleadingly up at him, "I can't leave her."

"Tough shit, it'll be hard enough to sneak out of here with you in tow, I don't need extra baggage dragging _us_ down," he reflexively tucked a piece of Fuu's hair behind her ear, his blood racing with heated memories of the night before. Was it Fuu's lovesick imagination or had Mugen purposely emphasized the word 'us'?

Faux tears (which had never worked before on Mugen, but Fuu thought it was worth a shot now) started forming in her shining, brown eyes. Now Mugen had seen Fuu cry on numerous occasions, many of those times were actually because of him, but for whatever reason, these tears almost swayed him…well _almost_. She whispered, "Please do it for me."

"Do it for this," having pulled the brothel's cashbox out from under the floorboards, Koto gave it a hearty shake and let the sweet jingle of ryo do the talking for her. There were a lot coins in that locked box, so much so, that it took Koto both hands to shake it around. The _twinkles_ and _clinks_ of all that delicious gold were like a chorus of celestial angels to three people who needed to disappear and disappear fast! She quirked an expectant eyebrow at Mugen.

While Fuu's jaw dropped, Mugen was already nodding enthusiastically, "Okay, the whore can come." He reached hungrily for the money.

"Not so fast slick," Koto held the cashbox away from Mugen, "_After_ you get me safely out of the city, we split the dough. Fifty-fifty, we got a deal?"

"Hey," whined Fuu, "why not in thirds?"

"Cause I opened a can of whoop-ass, she found the stash, and you do nothin' but give me a freackin' headache," nudging Fuu with his elbow and ignoring the sequential glare that followed, Mugen snorted an affirmation to Koto, "Half and half, deal."

Koto smiled in smug victory, tying a cotton cloth around the lockbox, because nothing attracts pickpockets like a bulging safe full of cash! Not that the senior prostitute was too worried with the homicidal felon playing guard dog. Anyone stupid enough to pinch this 'purse' deserved whatever violent retribution he could afford. "We should split before one of the other girls spots us," standing, Koto hung the cotton bag from her obi as if she was carrying her groceries or some other mundane aspect of daily life, "If the Boss pays 'em, they'll snitch on us, though Fuu and I will probably fall under suspicion anyway…still better to keep the Boss guessing as to whether we were kidnapped or accomplices. As for you foreigner, none of the other working girls have seen you."

"Would they really turn us in?" Fuu asked in her deliberate naivety.

"I would," was Koto's blatant answer, before heading down the corridor.

Keeping one eye glued to the sack holding the cashbox, Mugen warned, "Just keep quiet. If that thing starts jingling and making noise like money does, every damn mugger on the block is gonna be up our ass. Then I'll just jack the dough and ditch you."

"Believe me," she lead Mugen and Fuu to the front entryway, listening carefully for any whores that might be investigating the lack of yakuza guards, "there's only two things I do well and one of them is hiding cash." Seeing that the way was clear, Koto motioned for Mugen and Fuu to follow her as she tiptoed towards the flapped entrance. However, the effect was spoiled since Mugen didn't bother to mask the metallic _thumps_ of his geta.

Mugen was about to ask if Koto would demonstrate what else she was good at, but suddenly a flash of sunlight brightened the room followed by an ominous shadow as three men entered the brothel. Two of the men were young, fit, and haughty looking, definitely fighters of some sort (or as Mugen was thinking with interest, 'competition'). The middle guy was older, flecks of grey peppering his black hair. There was a trimmed goatee on his chin and a scar that ran vertically over his forehead and cheekbone, skipping closely over the eye. A green and red tattoo of a serpentine tail twined around his neck and disappeared underneath the collar of his kimono. But all these characteristics took a backseat to his primary feature…

The dude was a fucking mountain!

"Hu-uh?" both Mugen and Fuu hung their heads back to get a proper look at the giant. Fuu gawked, Mugen grinned. The big bastard towered over Mugen by at least a foot and probably outweighed him by a hundred-eighty kinn easy. His dark eyes glanced over them briefly with all the confidence of someone who's never had to check around corners or think twice about going down a dark alley (sometimes a thief or robber would jump out at him, then stare up in dumb shock, before muttering, "Um…thought you were someone else, sorry," and running away). He finally stared down at Koto, his expression quiet and calculating. This was no stupid behemoth; there was a street-wise intelligence that hung in the air around him.

"Boss Yutaka," her face desperately blank, Koto bowed to the Boss, never making a sound from the cashbox at her waist even as she kneeled and touched her head to the ground.

"Why are you dressed, Koto?" Yutaka walked to her, his footsteps were like tree trunks dropping onto the ground, "Why are you in kimono?" Reaching his giant hand down, he gently cupped her face in his massive palm and brought her to her feet.

"What ever are you doing here, Boss? Especially at this time of day?" feigning ignorance and desperate to change the subject, Koto fluttered her eyelashes and smiled in the way she knew pleased him most, "You should've sent a message, so we could've been ready for you. Why my face isn't even on yet! How positively indecent!"

"I came to ensure that you didn't interfere with the new whore's lesson," warily, he watched her for any signs of emotion, "You've been acting strange lately and my boys told me how protective you were with her last night. Why can't you behave yourself little Koto?"

"Simple business sense, I assure you," and she turned her head to nip playfully at his finger, but Yutaka only frowned at her obvious discomfort.

"Where are my boys?"

"In the courtyard," Mugen spoke up, slinging an arm around Fuu's shoulder.

"Are they almost finished?" Yutaka continued to address Koto.

"Oh yeah," and Mugen kept answering for her, "they're finished."

"And who are you?" the Boss finally turned his stare onto Mugen.

"A customer," with immeasurable satisfaction, Mugen slid his hand down Fuu's shoulder and into her kimono where he pointedly fondled her. Frozen and mortified, all Fuu could manage was a surprised squeak of indignation.

"And who is she?" as the cold glare hit Fuu, she gulped and actually leaned back into Mugen, even though he hadn't removed his hand from her breast yet.

"The new girl," Mugen replied helpfully.

His head snapped back down to Koto and Boss Yutaka glowered at the whore's face in his hand, "What's going on? And what are you hiding in that bag, Koto?" Without warning, the Boss jostled his arm and though it was only a small shake comparatively, Koto's head whipped violently back and forth. But she didn't care, all she heard was the telltale clinking of the gold ryo at her waist, giving her away. Her stomach lurched in fear. Abruptly, he stopped her movement by clasping his hand around her throat, big fingers wrapping completely around her neck. "I knew it was you," he said almost regretfully (but with no real remorse), gradually squeezing, "I knew it was you that was skimming off my profits, not the ex-Madam. But you were my favorite," and he stated this as if it should explain everything, "so I jacked her up, instead of you. It was supposed to be a warning, Koto. You should've wised up and cut this shit out. But what the hell do I find here? You ain't just jippin' some cash, you trying to clean me the fuck out! " She clung helplessly to his wrist, tears brimming in her eyes as the pressure on her throat increased. Any second now, she knew he'd end it quickly and break her neck in his colossal fist. She'd seen him do it to others before. Boss Yutaka was relentless and murmured quietly, "You were my favorite. Why couldn't you behave yourself little Koto?"

"Only two bodyguards," Mugen whistled, "You must have balls of steel, pal." The pirate had managed to stroll casually between the two yakuza guards and then had the audacity to hock a loogie at their feet. "Thanks for showing up," he mentioned matter-of-fact, "Saves me the trouble of finding the asshole that sent those cocksuckers to rape _my _woman." His pinkie was cleaning out his left ear, "Oi, by the way, your 'boys' are dead," muttering under his breath, Mugen itched the back of his right calf with his left toe, "dead, dead…dead." He was in full 'annoying-as-hell' mode.

Behind him, Fuu dumbly mouthed the words 'my woman' in shock.

_Whack_! What felt like a carriage full of anvils swiftly hit Mugen square in the chest and lifted him about four feet off the floor. He crashed through a sliding door and skidded on his back for another three feet of splinters. Boss Yutaka slowly put his fist down, turning his attention back to Koto who he had released so he could sucker-punch that loud-mouthed vagrant. She coughed and wiped her watery eyes with her sleeve. It never failed; badasses were always assuming that just because he was massive, that he was also massively slow, but Boss Yutaka was actually pretty spry considering his bulk.

Unfortunately, when it came to speed, Mugen was in a class all his own.

"Damn, I just got bitchslapped," flipping onto his feet, Mugen dashed towards the human mountain. The two bodyguards attempted to block his way, but he leapt over their slashing katanas and gracefully landed one foot on each of their faces. "You remind me of an old saying that I heard back in Ryu-kuu," he sprang forward, barely diving under Boss Yutaka's reach, and slid completely under his open legs. "An orca is fast for a whale," his geta clapped as he bounded off the wall, sailing onto Yutaka's back. His sword was drawn, the blade was glinting, and Mugen held onto the broad shoulders while pulling Yutaka's head back by the hair, "But a mako shark is just plain fast." The air literally _whooshed _as Yutaka grasped at Mugen with arms thick as a horse's neck, but the convict was not holding still long enough to be caught. Dodging the massive hands, Mugen fell into a backwards somersault. The lifted blade swooped down with him.

And Boss Yutaka's throat was sliced straight open, spraying blood.

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"Are you sure you're going to be all right?" Fuu asked Koto.

"Don't worry, kid," she said, "With this cash, I can completely disappear."

The three of them stood about twenty feet off the dirt road in a chirping and friendly forest. Here is where the trio took the time to divide the brothel money up. The first problem was opening the locked cashbox. Both Koto and Mugen were bickering over who was the better lock-pick and after both failed miserably to open the lock, Mugen just kicked the sucker in until it cracked. The second problem was that Mugen insisted on dividing up the coins in the pirate fashion, which meant forming two piles and putting one ryo at a time into each share. (Obviously, this system was developed by men who knew their limitations when it came to arithmetic.) It was time consuming.

The departure from the booming trade city was relatively uneventful. After Mugen had dispensed of Yutaka's two bodyguards, Koto did something strange; she closed Boss Yutaka's dead eyes and quietly kissed his cheek. Then they made a hasty escape before anyone else came into the whorehouse. A few times, a yakuza thug from the Yutaka gang or a customer would ask Koto what she was doing out of the cathouse, but Mugen would flash one of his 'looks' or if more persuasive methods were called for, he'd unsheathe a few inches of his bloody blade and they were left alone.

Mugen was leaning against a tree, ignoring the women for the most part and grinning contentedly into his bag of gold. It caught the sun in the most delightful way and he twisted and turned the coins so that the light twinkled and glinted playfully.

"But where will you go?"

"Don't know," shrugging happily, Koto shot an annoyed glance at Mugen when he started giggling at the money for no apparent reason, "I'll lay low for awhile, but with Boss Yutaka dead, the Masakazu and the Kiero gangs are gonna clash for territory. After that war, well no one will give two shits about a dead yakuza boss and his favorite whore. So then I'll go as far as I like, I guess. You gonna be all right with that foreigner?"

"Yeah," Fuu watched Mugen watching them out of the corner of his eye, "I think so."

"Catch ya later Fuu," she tapped her gently on the chin, smiling at the grateful look in Fuu's glowing face. Koto walked casually back to the road and growled as she passed Mugen, "You take care of her, you hear?" From her pocket, Koto tossed Mugen the thirty mon she had kept from the night before. He caught the six copper coins in his fist, grunting some noncommittal snort. She approached the road. The noise of her geta crunching along the pebbled and dirt path were a sacred sound to Koto's ears, a sound she thought she'd never hear- her own footsteps setting out for a new life. Gently, the wind blew and tickled her loose hair. The world was a welcoming place.

"Goodbye Koto," waving dramatically, Fuu stared at Koto's retreating back, "I'll never forget you!"

Suddenly, Koto spun around and though she was already a good distance away, Fuu thought she glimpsed tears on her freckled cheeks. "My name is Mineko," she shouted and it was the first time that name had left her lips in twenty long years, "Goodbye Fuu!"

Fuu started to cry, still waving and smiling like crazy.

'_Sentimental_,' Mugen rolled his eyes and tried not to barf.

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"Stay close dumbass," hissing, Mugen jerked Fuu's arm as they hiked through the brush. She almost tripped, but managed to keep her feet under her, jogging to stay next to Mugen so he wouldn't drag her (because there was no doubt in her mind that he would do just that). For once, she didn't complain at the rough treatment. Instead she smiled to herself, pressing against Mugen's arm and blushing.

He was holding her hand!

There they were, staying away from the trail and occasionally hiding behind trees until Mugen said the coast was clear. Their progress had been slow. Mugen seemed overcautious (or as close to overcautious as he could manage). In fact, Fuu was starting to get the feeling that they were lost and might've said something, but all thought of whining left her mind when he took her hand about ten minutes ago. Growling, Mugen had muttered something like, "Always falling behind, gonna get your butt kidnapped again," and then roughly grabbed her hand on the pretense of having to 'tug' Fuu along.

His hand were worn and calloused, making Fuu shiver pleasantly as she remembered how they felt caressing her skin. Long fingers wrapped around hers and Fuu realized just how childlike her hands were compared to Mugen's. If he wanted, he could break her small hand in his fist. Instead, his grip was strong, but secure. His knuckles were large and tan, while her pale wrist shone brightly next to his. She could feel his palm sweating.

Fuu was driving Mugen crazy!

But in a good way, he conceded. Every time he turned around her kimono was riding up her calf or her collar was falling loosely at her breast or she was bending over _just so_. She was constantly running her fingers through her brunette hair and unconsciously licking her bruised lips. Was she trying to provoke him? Did she want to be thrown to the forest floor and galloped like a Shin racehorse? Because if Mugen thought for a moment that Fuu was intentionally teasing him, then that's exactly what he was going to do!

A flash of brown fur streaked across his vision and Mugen reflexively protected his face.

"Momo!" the flying squirrel landed on Fuu's shoulder. Seeing Mugen startled, Fuu loudly chastised her pet, "You shouldn't scare Mugen like that, naughty Momo."

"It did _not_ scare me," Mugen pulled on Fuu's arm a little harder then necessary, "I just don't like anything riding my face is all."

Under her breath, just barely above a minute whisper, so much so that Mugen might not have heard anything had the wind not carried her voice, Fuu murmured, "…bet _I_ could change your mind…"

Frozen to the spot, Mugen's mouth fell open. "What did you say?" he watched her, eyebrows quirked.

"Nothing," attempting to continue, Fuu was jerked back by the arm.

"No seriously, what did you just say?"

"I was talking to Momo."

"Horsepiss," another sharp tug and Fuu fell flat against Mugen's chest, "You just made a dirty joke." His face neared hers, his grin widening.

"I did _not_ just make a dirty joke," Fuu practically oozed pseudo-innocence, "I simply made an observation and your perverted sense of humor made it into a dirty joke." Defiant, Fuu wrenched her hand out of Mugen's grasp and pretended to storm away in righteous indignation.

"Just so you know," strolling casually after her with arms clasped behind his head, Mugen added, "I bet you could change my mind too."

Shortly thereafter, they came upon the roadside bandits' hideout. It was a plain, small hut, hidden smartly on the leeside of a rocky hill. While it was little more then four walls with a door, Fuu looked carefully at the thatched roof and papered windows. "Mugen?" she said uncertainly, "I don't think this shack has been abandoned. See? Someone's been taking care of it."

"Correction," Mugen sauntered towards the door and slid it open, "someone _was_ taking care of it."

Fuu sighed, "Do you have to kill everyone you meet?"

"Well you're not dead yet, so what are you bitching about?"

Not answering, Fuu passed Mugen and entered their little safe house. Koto (or Mineko, Fuu corrected her thoughts) was right. Since Boss Yutaka was dead, Mugen and Fuu wouldn't have to stay in hiding too long. After the remaining yakuza gangs warred for Yutaka's territory, no one would care about who killed him! But then what? An uneasy feeling swept over Fuu as Mugen slid the door shut and the room darkened a little. Did he intend to keep her? Or was he going to get bored and abandon her in some distant town?

She nearly leapt out of her skin when Mugen's long arms twined around her waist and nuzzled her ear. "Oi," his voice was raspy with lust, "I wanna fool around."

Twiddling her nervous fingers, Fuu's face flushed bright red as she giggled quietly, "Me too, I guess."

"You guess?" he chuckled warmly against her flesh.

The tiniest squeak and gasp fell from her mouth when Mugen started groping her hips and thighs. "Just let me get cleaned up first," leaping out of his reach, Fuu hoped it didn't sound too much like an excuse, "Okay?" She kicked off her geta in the dirt entryway and walked across the wood floor. Behind her, Mugen's eyes bore into the back of her head. He didn't like be denied anything, especially sex.

"You're clean enough," he snapped irritably and guessing that maybe he sounded a little too harsh, tried to compensate with a clumsy compliment, "You smell good."

There was a bucket of water under a particularly large gap in the thatch roof and Fuu sat next to it so she could dip her sleeve in the rainwater. A sudden understanding swept over Mugen, while he watched Fuu dab gingerly at her bloody lip. Familiar rage swelled in his guts and he clenched his fists, wishing he could kill those motherfuckers all over again. He stared helplessly at the red bruising around her neck and at the blue and purple rings around her wrist. "Hey," whipping off his geta and scabbard, Mugen approached Fuu with his red gi in hand, "let me." Before Fuu could protest, Mugen kneeled and wet his gi. With a determined look of concentration, he tried to clean Fuu's face up for her. Resolutely, he grasped her chin in one hand, squeezing her cheeks together, and tried to scrub with the other. His fingers tried to be gentle, but he didn't have a lot of practice being tender. In fact, the more he attempted to soften his touch, the more awkward he got. Involuntarily, Fuu grimaced when he rubbed harshly against her aching lip. Nevertheless, when he swore in frustration and made to pull away, she grabbed his wrist and nuzzled her face against his palm.

"There's something you should know Mugen," she refused to glance up at him, instead pretending to be preoccupied with a loose thread on his white shirt, "and it's not something you have to do anything about, it's not like I want or expect anything from you. But it is something you should know." Her thin arms wrapped around Mugen and she pressed herself against his chest. She had to tell him. It wouldn't be fair if she didn't. He had to know exactly where she was coming from, so she wouldn't resent him for breaking her heart and not knowing it later on. Under her ear, his heart beat steady and reassuring. "I love you," she said, proud that her voice didn't shake as she confessed to him.

"…hu-uh?"

"You heard me."

For a long moment they sat in silence, except for some overly enthusiastic birds chirping away outside and the leaves whispering secretly in the breeze. Without knowing why, Mugen remembered the one vague memory he had of his mother, or at least he was assumed it was his mother. Whoever it was, she was standing in the ocean in bright sunlight, letting the tide lap at her ankles. She never looked back at him, though he started to cry for her. This remembrance had almost been completely forgotten in the recesses of his foggy (and often traumatic) childhood, but he was suddenly reminded of it when he had watched Fuu skipping around in the ocean like a child, so joyful and carefree. And he recalled thinking as he watched her laugh and splash, that it was only _right_ that she should love the ocean as much as he did.

"Guess I got no complaints," finally, Mugen snaked his arms around Fuu's shoulders, squeezing slightly, and he felt her sigh in relief against his chest, "Nobody's ever loved me before. It's gotta have some perks right?"

"Right," and a sly smile spread over her face as Fuu slowly fell back, pulling Mugen down with her. She could definitely provide some 'perks'. Fuu arched up against him, while his hands immediately flew at her obi. He delivered one of his patented mind-blowing kisses, gradually rocking his hips against her thigh. One calloused hand snuck under her kimono to stroke soft flesh. Groaning, Fuu was tearing at his shirt and yanked it off over his head.

"We should probably set some ground rules as long as you're shacking up with me," Mugen rolled over, settling Fuu on top of his stomach. He smirked at her as if to say 'get to it,' before continuing what he'd been saying, "Seems to me that since I saved your ass this time around, that you're indebted to me, a-ight?" Admittedly, Fuu was only partially listening while she nodded at Mugen. How was she supposed to concentrate when she was straddling a half-naked bronzed pirate? "So I call the shots now. Number one," one finger was thrust up into Fuu's face, but the effect was spoiled when she leaned forward and pointedly bit it, her eyes mischievous as his eyes practically crossed. Mugen cleared his throat and persevered, "Whenever I want to fuck, you gotta put out. Got that? The way I figure, that's how you'll earn your keep."

Her head quirked to the side, Fuu tried to sound annoyed not aroused, "So basically, you saved me from a brothel to become your 'private' whore?"

"Yeah, I've always wondered what it'd be like to get laid everyday. Most guys couldn't handle that much booty, but shit, I could probably manage twice a day if I got a good night's sleep," hands clasped nonchalantly behind his head, Mugen purposely didn't catch the edge to Fuu's voice, "Number two, if another dude touches you, I get to slice him the hell up."

"Sooner or later some guy's going to have to touch me," leaning down, Fuu rested her chin on Mugen's chest and petted his sides. A gigantic bruise was already forming on Mugen's torso where Boss Yutaka had punched him. She pecked a quick kiss to it.

"I don't mean touch-touch," to demonstrate his point, he started caressing her legs under her kimono, "I mean _touch_-_touch_."

Then a shadow fell over Mugen's features and a frown darkened his expression. He was pensively silent. The fingers on her thighs started slowing down and Fuu watched Mugen staring off into the ceiling. His brow was scrunched and his bottom lip pouted at some inner thought he wasn't willing to voice.

Suddenly, a sense of foreboding fell over Fuu. Few things bothered Mugen and she dreaded finding out was disturbing him. All she knew was that it had something to do with her and for a second, she was worried that he had changed his mind about everything. With great trepidation, she asked, "Anything else?" Abruptly, Mugen rolled them over, laying his weight on Fuu. He tucked his head into her neck, his arms hugged her tightly and his legs wrapped around hers.

"Just one more thing. If you ever leave me," he whispered fiercely against her skin, "I'll find you, I swear to fuck I will. I'll find you and I'll hurt you, Fuu. Do you hear me? I'll hurt you just bad enough so you _have_ to stay with me. Understand?" While he couldn't bring himself to look at her while he made this threat, afterwards he finally brought his eyes to reluctantly meet hers. They flashed dangerously and yet at the same time, they were begging her, begging her to believe every word he said, begging her not to make him prove it…begging her never to leave him.

And Fuu nodded, because she did understand and she did believe him. And in a strange way she wasn't afraid of this dark warning, she embraced it. Shaking off her kimono, Fuu urged him on top of her, her legs spread and fingers dragging down his back. Because Fuu knew exactly what Mugen meant, exactly what he was saying.

This was how a Ryu-kuuian says he loves you.

THE END

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Just for the record, I don't think Mugen would ever actually hurt Fuu, but one of the very few forms of communication that Mugen understands is violence, ergo his threat. This is just Mugen's way of saying, "I love you and want to be with you forever and I'm not sure how to handle it." (I also thought the hint of darkness offset the fluff!)

Thank you to everyone for reading, it was a fun fic to write! And thanks for the reviews, I'm very interested in hearing what everyone thinks of the ending.

Citadel


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